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LUCKY TUESDAY LOTTO 2SURE AND SURE BANKER FOR 12/09/2023
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The Demon Prince- The Never Ending Legacy of the Void pt. 1
The sun beamed into my eyes as I awoke. Disappointing honestly that I'm not dead. I sit up for a moment, catching my breath. Waking up always feels like such a violent experience, like my body physically hates being awake and feels better in slumber. Probably has a lot to do with my depression but who's worried about that? I have to get ready for work, again. I begrudgingly stand up and put pants and a shirt on, then make my way to the bathroom for the usual morning piss. I look out the window at the sky to check the weather because I cant be bothered checking the forecast anymore these days. Looks fine, a couple of clouds are in the sky but nothing looks dark or stormy, so that's good at least.
I finished getting ready and gathering my things together to head to work, an hour drive there if I'm lucky, if there's any traffic though I'm for sure going to be late. With that in mind, I went to work, dissociating on the road to make the time go by faster, and so I don't have to get into my own head too much.
I do that a lot, get in my own head. too much for my own good sometimes. I can't control myself, and all of the intrusive thoughts come flooding in like the blood out of the elevator in "The Shining." Then it's just a fight not to let them win and let them take control. Though sometimes I wonder: what if i did let them win for once? Could it really be all that bad?
What if I finally show all of these mother fuckers who I really am? What if I finally get to be the center of attention for once? Instead of being locked in the background of my own FUCKING story.
|Is this really what you feel The deep, breathy voice rang in my head like a dark and dank omnipotent presence. Gods... I went Spiraling again didn't I? sigh.
|I can make everyone r e g r e t that they ever did you wrong, you'll be successful, but in order to do so you must suffer|
What the actual fuck is happening right now? I shook my head and gave my temple a firm smack so I knew I wasn't dreaming. Apparently I made it to work, don't know how, but I did. The day went on as usual with no other weird disembodied voices booming in my mind like a narrator for some 80's style dark fantasy. I clocked out of work and heard it again on the way to my car:
|d o n t i g n o r e m3 p e A s a n t|
Okay, first of all no need to call me names; second of all who the hell are you?
"What did you say?" my coworker chimed in.
"Did I say that out loud? Oh gods" I panicked and got in my car and darted back home as fast as I could. It was about 5 miles away from my house when I noticed other things happening. First. the highway street lamps seemed to be growing and shrinking at random as I passed them. Then, I noticed there were no other cars on the highway around me...It's supposed to be rush hour traffic right now and I'm cruising comfortably around 5 mph over the speed limit. This isn't normal. Nothing is normal. Then, a shadow wafted around me life a sheet of rain, at this point I pull over and look up, because, what the fuck?
There it is.... the sun.... I could see it so clearly because it had turned black (reminds me of Soundgarden), but it was still undulating and pulsing with plasma, but the rays emitting had turned a deep purple, like someone had turned the sun into a giant black light for some reason, the trees started to glow with a purple-white and green fluorescence, everything else having that hauntingly purple-white glow around it. I looked around, still no one, but a looming sense of doom shrouded me in a veil of anxiety. I swiftly got back in my car, taking a moment to catch my breath. what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!?!?!?!
I started doing my breathing techniques, in....out....hold.......in...hold...out...etc... and counting my fingers: five on the right, one. two. three. four. five....five on the left, one. two. three. four. five. ok, I'm not dreaming so my panic is valid..... just breathe it out.
I drove home taking deep breaths and watching the road in front of me start breathing, the ground raising and lowering like a breathing chest. As I got closer to home, Only just around the corner now, you got this, the breathing waves of road got deeper and deeper, slowly but surely, as if I were getting closer to the source.
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Each part of the story will have a corresponding playlist on Spotify for better immersion: So here's the part 1 playlist:
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Stowaway Mer AU
Part 1: Discovery
So it’s MerMay and I have be working on my MerMay project since October… don’t ask. It’s not G/t and is going to be somewhat focused on the Eldritch terrors (sea demons) accosting the characters and the town.
Also thank you @horseyneigh2002 for listening to me ramble on about fish and stuff for the past six months!
As for the characters in this story we have Em who’s a human, Vega (also human), Flynn Taggart (Doomguy but he’s only mentioned in this one), and Seth our cinnamon roll of a Mer (who is a combination of a Port Jackson and a leopard shark)
This chapter contains; Alcohol Mention, Almost Drowning, Animal Death, and Injury.
Now that that’s all out of the way here’s the story
It was a cloudy day today on the stony shores of Port Murlow. But Em didn’t mind, she loved cloudy weather and even if she didn’t nothing could sour her mood today!
Well maybe a thunderstorm could, but she had double checked the forecast and made sure that there was no danger.
The reason for her cherry mood as she walked down the pebble beach was because she had recently moved into a new house. Her great aunt had informed her that someone had moved into the old manor and that he was looking for a roommate.
Aunt Nihm had told her the owner was ex-military and had inherited it from his grandfather or something. She had said the guy had picked up a job on one of the fishing boats in town and that he still seemed a little on edge after being discharged from the military.
Her aunt had also told her that he wouldn’t be there until tomorrow because he had to go and grab some things from his old place. Em had already packed her things up and had booked some time off for the move. She decided to kill some time and try out the wet suit her great aunt had given her.
She already had it on and was just going somewhere without any boat traffic, she had bought her backpack, a few sacks, and her diving knife with her too. Em’s hobby was beach combing and she had wanted to see what she could find in the bay.
Most of the time she’d find glass or garbage from tourists or townsfolk, other times she’d find porcelain and old smoking pipes from years gone by. Sometimes if the was lucky she’d find shark teeth or old bones from the town’s whaling days.
She wasn’t sure if it was legal to keep the whale bones so she’d store them in one of the many sea caves the dotted the cliff sides.
Once she had gotten far enough from the town and harbour she set her backpack on rock by the cliffs before putting her goggles on and grabbed two sacks before wading into the water and swam out.
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Seth was relieved when he had found shallow waters, the open ocean made him uneasy and vulnerable. The run in with that pod of orcas didn’t help either.
He was lucky that pod of humpbacks intervened. If they didn’t he’d have been dead. He waved goodbye to the whales and swam into the bay.
He rose to the surface and and took in his surroundings. Even with his poor eyesight he knew that this wasn’t home. The water was cooler and darker, and the whales sounded a little different from the ones back home.
Seth dove back down and decided to look for something to eat. After some searching he had managed to find some clams to eat. As he was eating he could hear something thrashing about nearby.
He set down the clam he was eating and went to investigate the noise. As he grew closer he could begin to make out what appeared to be either a diver or a seal trapped in the kelp, given the fact they had arms flailing about he figured it was probably a human. From what he could see they appeared to have gotten their leg tangled up in it.
Between their erratic movements and lack of an oxygen tank, Seth realized that the human was running out of air. Part of him wanted to swim away out of fear, but another part of him wanted to help.
So against his better judgement, Seth approached the human.
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So far Em had found the usual beer bottles and cans in rocks and silt. But then she spotted a sunken rowboat and went to investigate.
As she searched around the sunken rowboat she found many broken bottles, but these ones were a lot older than the ones she found earlier. Further investigation revealed a small crate labeled “Embalming Fluid”.
Em surfaced for air before diving back down to investigate the crate of supposed “Embalming Fluid”. Using her knife, Em pried open the the crate and found that it didn’t house embalming fluid, but in fact wine. Em hammered the lid back down with the butt of the knife before surfacing once more for air.
Before she dove back down she emptied one of the plastic bottles she found and screwed the lid back on. She put the now empty bottle back into the bag and dove back the boat.
Once under again Em looked around for a long piece of kelp so she could tie it to the bottle as a makeshift marker. She found a particularly long piece of kelp and cut it near the base of the plant and swam back over to the boat.
She tied one end to the thing the oars went in and then tied the other to the bottle. Once she let go of the bottle it rocked up towards the surface. Em noticed something shining in the sand not to far away.
She swam over to investigate and found that it was either an old compass or pocket watch. She put the item in one of her bags and began he accent but was stopped. She felt something slimy wrapped around her leg and began to panic.
Faster and faster she kicked her legs but she still couldn’t move. She could feel her air running out and began to panic more. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse she felt hands wrap around her ankle as well.
She whipped her head around and was greeted with the face of some sort of creature. It had wide eyes and a human like face, it had two dully pointed fin-like ears on the sides of its head and it was looking directly at her.
She saw that it had her leg in it’s hands which were connected to a human like torso but that was where the similarities ended. The rest of its body resembled a shark but with more rounded fins and tail.
Suddenly Em remembered the knife she had and pulled it out before swinging it at the creature. It let go of her leg and backed away. She took the opportunity and tried to swim away, but she was still stuck on something.
The shark creature came back and grabbed at her leg before lunging at it. Em let out a muffled scream and stabbed the knife into the creature’s side. It winced in pain as Em took off like a bat out of hell, leaving her two bags behind.
Once she broke the surface she immediately made a beeline for the shore. When she made it ashore she started booking it towards town, not realizing that she had now also forgotten her backpack.
Not long after she left, an older man had found her bag. He was of average height and built and wore rubber overalls on top of a white sweater.
He adjusted his glasses before checking the name tag on the back of the backpack. He recognized the name as the same one that the cashier had at the bait shop down by the pier.
He took the bag with him as he walked back to his research station so that he could get his boat and return the bag to its owner.
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Seth had grabbed the diver’s leg so he could try and untangle it from their leg. He had tried to convey he meant no harm to the human but it clearly didn’t work when the human has swung a knife at him.
He had backed off and the human began to struggle more as they tried to swim away. He knew they couldn’t have much air left. Seth needed to act fast, and made the decision to bite through the kelp.
He grabbed the seaweed with both hands and bit clean through it. As he did that he felt a sharp pain in his side. He had been stabbed. He winced in pain and immediately backed away into the kelp as the human swarm off. He waited a moment before re-emerging to make sure the human was gone.
When he was certain that the human had left Seth looked around before deciding to swim under the rowboat for shelter, not long after he began to softly cry, wishing he knew where he was and how to get home. Eventually he fell asleep to sounds of fish and the distant calls of the whales.
#Stowaway Mer AU#MerMay#mermay 2023#if you have any questions about the story#feel free to ask#tw injury#tw almost drowning#tw alchohol mention#tw animal death#my writing
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how was lucky g result
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The Simplest Thing in the World
Title: The Simplest Thing in the World Pairing: Dio Brando x Jonathan Joestar Rating: G Tags: Modern AU, Reincarnation AU, Established Relationship, Sickfic, Fluff Summary: When Jonathan comes down with a fever, Dio takes up the task of caring for him. The only problem is he isn’t exactly sure how. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The rain had been drizzling down since morning, turning the day a murky grey. Even with the furnace turned up, that autumn rain left a chill throughout the house. Horrendous weather. Not the kind that Dio would have stepped foot in, let alone stayed out all day digging around in — which is why Jojo should have listened to his advice and not gone out on his scheduled dig off in the countryside. Instead, he had carried on about the logistics of postponing the survey, how desperately excited he was to uncover whatever knick-knack he was hunting for this time, until Dio had given him a cold shoulder to rival the weather outside. Not to be swayed when he’d set his mind to something, Dio could do nothing but begrudgingly accept Jojo’s kiss on the cheek as he walked out the door. And so, while he should have been relaxing on his day off, Dio had sat restlessly by the fireplace all day, distractedly thumbing through novels and case files. He tried not to think about the weather or the memories it brought up, and especially not about how much he wished Jojo were next to him right now. It’s not as if the two were bound to each other, after all — except by the threads of fate, perhaps. Dio didn’t feel the need any more to keep Jonathan under his constant surveillance. After they’d settled the initial problems between them, the loose threads and things left unsaid from their past life together, they managed to have a comparatively less fraught relationship. It was easier to be honest, with the gift of hindsight. To do things right this time. They’d even gotten married three years past. Dio didn’t need Jojo by his side, he reminded himself. It was only that he didn’t like his correct advice being ignored.
And so he certainly didn’t perk up in excitement when he heard the lock turn on the front door. That not-excitement quickly faded when the door swung open and he saw the figure standing there. Jojo was soaked through from his hat down to his boots, hardly recognizable from how sodden he was. “Bloody hell Jojo, what happened to you?” Dio said, setting his book down and making his way over. He stayed decidedly back from the splash zone as Jonathan unburdened himself, setting his gear bag down and hanging his coat to drip over the mud tray next to the door. Jonathan let out a groan. “Umbrella broke halfway from the station. I hadn’t expected it could rain this hard!” He gave a laugh, but there was no mirth in it. “Didn’t I warn you of the forecast just this morning?” Dio huffed, although he was already on his way to the kitchen for a towel. He rejoined Jojo shortly, continuing to reprimand him even while drying his hair. “I told you to forego the dig, and now look at what a sorry state you’re in. If you had listened to me, Dio, instead of traipsing off like a fool, this never would have occurred.” Dio paused, waiting for some sort of retort or excuse from Jojo, but the man just stood there letting himself be ruffled and dabbed at with the towel. Through the folds of fabric Dio could see Jonathan’s face, an abject picture of misery. It was like a puppy who’d been thrown into the streets and kicked a few times for good measure. Dio didn’t have any sympathy for such mutts, but Jojo was his. He couldn’t allow a look like that to tarnish his husband’s features. He slowed his ministrations with a sigh, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “Gods Jojo, you’re like ice. Go get changed and have a seat by the fire before you catch your death. I’ll make you some cocoa, hm?” “Really?” The eyes peeking out from beneath the towel and damp tendrils of hair had already begun to regain some of their sparkle, and his lips were curled up in a barely restrained smile. Decidedly undoglike already. Yes, this was the way Dio preferred Jojo to look. With a nod, he gave the towel one last ruffle and headed back to the kitchen. He tried not to think about how much Jojo would drip on the floor on his way to their bedroom.
When he came back to the living room, Jojo had put on his warmest flannel pajamas and was bundled by the fire in the tartan blanket Dio had been wrapped in just moments ago. His eyes were half-closed, and he seemed about ready to doze off in the comfortable warmth. It brought a smile to Dio’s own face as he settled down on the couch next to him. “Here you are.” He said, handing the mug over. He was certain the rich cocoa — complete with the tiny marshmallows Jojo loved — would have him forgetting about his miserable walk from the station in no time. Then Dio could go back to saying “I told you so”. Jonathan sipped at the cocoa, mug gripped in two hands for the warmth. Dio leaned into him. “There, does that make you feel better?” he asked, knowing it would. Jonathan gave no reply, only slurping the beverage quietly. Dio furrowed his brow. The least he could do was say a word of thanks! But when he glanced up at Jojo’s face, his eyes widened. Jonathan’s eyes had fallen closed, and he leaned slightly to the side as if he had drifted to sleep, but something about it wasn’t quite right. Dio pressed the back of his hand against his husband’s forehead, finding it burned in a way that could not be explained by his proximity to the fire. “Jojo?” He inquired, which was met only with the fluttering of eyelashes. “Alright then,” Dio said, taking back the mug — which at least got a whine in response. “Diooo….” Jonathan mumbled quietly. “Shh, now’s not the time to worry over your chocolate. I believe you’ve caught a fever.” The man only listed more to the side, clearly not having as much concern for his own health as Dio did. Then this would be up to him alone, after all. Jonathan was lucky to have such a caring lover as he! Carefully, he slung Jojo’s arms over his shoulders and eased him from the couch. Any other would have had a difficult time lifting the man, but Dio had no such problem supporting the barely-conscious Joestar as they crossed to the bedroom. He didn’t even complain when he felt the disgusting sensation of stepping upon one of Jojo’s wet footprints in his stockinged feet. But oh, there would be a time for that. Once he had Jonathan properly tucked into bed, he didn’t waste a moment to gaze upon the pitiful image before heading to the kitchen for a damp cloth, retrieving the cocoa on his way back to the bedroom. “Come on, Jojo.” Patting his cheek briskly, which succeeded in getting him to open his eyes, bleary though they were. “Good boy.” He placed a kiss on Jonathan’s feverish head before applying the cool, wet cloth. “Don’t fret, your cocoa is right here on the side table. You are ill. Stay here and don’t move, I’m running out to the chemist for some medicine.” Jojo only made a light mumbling noise, reaching his hand to cover Dio’s as it lay upon the cloth. But there was no time for sentimentality. “I won’t be long. Don’t you dare get out of this bed.” Dio gave his hand a quick squeeze. He only paused to turn on the soft bedside lamp before heading out into the dreadful weather with his own, functional, umbrella.
Though the umbrella had kept him dry, the weather had him feeling quite cross by the time he returned. To think this was all happening because Jojo had defied him this morning! Mad though he was, he wasn’t about to let the man die for his mistakes, so he took out his anger by slamming the kitchen cupboards in his wake as he gathered what he needed. He set out the bottle of medicine on a tray, filling a glass with water as well as a bowl to refresh the cloth on Jonathan’s head. By the time he was finished that, the anger had ebbed and his energy had refocused onto the task at hand. Thankfully, the man was still in bed, and stirred just a little when Dio entered. When Dio set the tray down on the side table, he was relieved to see the cocoa had been finished — always a good sign. If Jojo had been sick enough to refuse chocolate, now that would have been a great cause for concern. Dio pulled out the stopper on the medicine bottle. Before he let the dose drop into the glass of water, he paused, a jagged chill of caution shooting up his spine. He found himself glancing at Jonathan — who was not paying attention — out of some centuries-old reflex. Slowly, he took a breath and came back into himself — his current self. It mattered not if Jonathan saw him adding the drops, for this was only medicine, and prescribed to the man after all. Understandable that his reflexes would kick in, for he believed this was the first time in two lifetimes that he, Dio, was administering a drug with the intent to heal. The realization didn’t sit well with him, and neither did the dawning fact that he had never nursed another before. For only a moment, a sickening feeling of helplessness rolled in. Never had he been so out of his depth. But he’d be damned if he let Jojo be privy to that fact! How hard could it be for one such as himself to care for a single ill buffoon? In fact, it was very likely that now given the chance, Dio would excel in this feat like he did at everything else. He let the medicine drop into the glass, watching as it dispersed through the water. Then, he turned to the sleeping man — and nearly jumped to find Jojo’s slivered eyes trained on him. There’s nothing to worry about he reminded himself. “Jojo… my love, sit up and drink this.” It was hard for him to casually speak in such endearing terms, but he saw the energy — however slight — that the words awakened in the other man. Jonathan had cared for him on the one or two occasions he’d gotten too sick to do it himself, and although he enjoyed having Jojo’s full attention he hated the feeling of vulnerability it left him with. Now he was realizing there was plenty of vulnerability on the other side of that exchange as well. Abhorrent. But if it was necessary, then Dio would suck it up for the sake of doing this right. Once Jonathan had been propped up against the pillows, he set the glass upon his lips, holding it in place rather than trusting Jojo’s weak grasp at the moment. “Slowly,” he cautioned, although Jonathan still managed to gulp the cool liquid down as fast as Dio would allow. He let out a great gasp when he had finished, unsurprising since he hadn’t paused even to take a breath. At least the medicine was in him now and could begin its work. “Thank you, Dio.” Jonathan said softly. “Don’t mention it.” Even after all these years, the trust with which Jojo had accepted the medicine nearly made his hands shake, and Dio had to will them still before he continued his work. He lifted the cloth, letting his hand rest on Jonathan’s forehead momentarily before dipping the cloth in the bowl of cool water and wringing it out. The temperature hadn’t gone down at all. “For going out there to get the medicine, and everything…” Jojo continued as Dio replaced the cloth. “I’m sure… I’ll be fine now, so you can just…” His eyes were fighting to keep themselves open, and his voice was weak. “Now Jojo, I think we’ve had enough foolishness for today. Lay back.” Dio helped him to do so and tucked the blankets up to his chin. What more could he do? He tried to think back to the times Jojo had nursed him, but the memories were foggy due to his own delirious state at the time. Still, with all the books he had read, he’d picked up a few common practices for a situation like this. “I will make you soup,” he said, matter-of-factly. He blinked down at Jojo, who stared at him foggily — had the man just been speaking? No, surely not. “Erm, but I—” “No need to worry, it won’t take but a moment. Call for me if you need anything.” He cupped Jonathan’s cheeks and placed a kiss to the crown of his head. Then, he was out of the room with haste, on a mission. Of course, there was no time to go shopping for premium ingredients, so the boxed chicken broth they had in the pantry would have to do. Still, he made sure to add in fresh chicken, celery, carrot, and plenty of herbs and spices. While it simmered, he popped back into the bedroom, cooling Jojo’s forehead as he slept. By the time he was done he was certain the soup could heal even the worst afflictions, not to mention could rival that of any four-star chef.
When he eased quietly through the bedroom door, Jojo seemed more alert to his presence than before, and his colouring had improved. Dio smiled as he approached the bed, setting the soup bowl on the bedside tray. He brought over a chair and sat down. “My Jojo.” He stroked his husband’s cheek, “Do you think you could eat some soup?” The glimmer in those dark blue eyes was reward enough for the sentimentality. “If you made it, of course Dio.” Jojo’s voice was still soft, though it seemed like he’d regained some strength by now. A little seed of pride sprouted in Dio’s chest as he helped Jonathan to sit up (not that he had ever been short of such a thing). Jonathan reached for the bowl but Dio gently swatted his hands away. “Allow me,” he said, making it clear obedience was not optional. So Jonathan sat back against the pillows let Dio lift the spoon to his mouth. Dio listened to the slurping sounds without complaint, although they grated on him. He supposed Jojo did not have much control over his manners in a situation like this. “It’s not too hot, is it?” he asked. Jonathan shook his head. “No, it’s delicious.” “Of course it is. Have some more.” Dio refilled the spoon. Soon they had settled into a rhythm, and Dio found himself relaxing, watching the man eat the soup that he was sure would make him feel better. But soon the bowl was empty, and Dio turned back to fretting. So much so that he hardly paid attention to the soft look Jojo was giving him. “I’m so thankful to have you as my caretaker, Dio…” What could he do next? He’d given the man medicine, let him sleep, and even fed him homemade soup. Maybe the cloth needed refreshing, or perhaps he could get him more water? Yes, something to drink would be good. “I know you always strive to be the best, but you needn’t do so mu—” “I’ll go put the kettle on for tea!” Dio said, leaping from his seat and heading to do just that. A pressure on his wrist stopped his swirling mind in a moment, and he turned back to see Jonathan gripping weakly onto the cuff of his shirt. Dio took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then took Jonathan’s warm palm into his. “What is it that you want, Jojo? What can I do for you?” Of course. If he wanted to know what he should do, he need only have asked the man himself. At this moment he may well have done anything for him. “Would you…” came Jonathan’s hesitant reply, “Just stay by my side? I feel so much better when you’re near.” Dio’s features softened and his heart fluttered in his chest. “Of… of course, Jojo.” When he had turned down the covers and slipped into bed, Jojo wasted no time cuddling up to him. In truth, it was sweltering, but now was not the time to complain. At the very least, the chill that had plagued Dio since morning had finally been chased off. So stay by his side he did. Dio lay with Jonathan, stroking his hair idly as the time ticked by. Reading to him when he was awake, and humming to him softly while he slept. It was a tune he seemed to remember from long ago, though he couldn’t recall quite where he’d picked it up. Perhaps a memory from the distant past, a comfort from when he’d once been ill a lifetime before. Jojo’s features were soft in his sleep, and when Dio leaned his cheek against the man’s forehead, it felt almost cool. After a time, Dio drifted off to sleep, still holding Jojo close.
When they awoke, it was morning. The sun was shining and birds chirped outside the window. Dio took a moment to blink in the light before gazing down into those sleepy blue eyes. They were considerably sharper than the night before. “Feeling better, Jojo?” “Mhm, much better. All thanks to you!” “Now Jojo, if only you had postponed your dig until today…” Dio mumbled more to himself than anything else, not really putting any fight into it. Jonathan snuggled closer. “Oh but Dio, if I had, I wouldn’t be waking up so lazily next to my beautiful husband like this.” “Mm… when you put it that way, I suppose I can concede.” “Nor would I have received all that loving attention yesterday.” Jonathan let out a contented sigh. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been so well cared for in my life.” His voice was still somewhat weak but Dio could feel a smile in it, and so he let himself smile too. “Naturally, I, Dio, would provide the utmost care for the only man deserving of my affections,” he said, running his fingers through Jonathan’s curls. “Then I truly am lucky to have you. Maybe I should try to get sick more often…” “Jojo…” Dio’s voice was filled with reproach, which got a weak chuckle from Jojo, more felt than heard. “I am kidding! But I do enjoy this doting side of yours, Dio. I would love to see more of it.” “Hmm…” Though he loved Jojo more than anything, he’d often thought that kindness was simply not in his nature. Perhaps it was the lingering traces of who he’d been in the past, when he’d grown up in a harsher life. It was only now that he realized just how good it felt to heal Jonathan with his own two hands. To feel that seed of pride blossom when he saw adoration in those blue eyes, not merely because Dio deserved to be adored (which he did), but because of the care he’d given. When Dio considered it, perhaps he enjoyed it too. He couldn’t let Jojo get too spoiled of course, but if his mere attention could make the man feel better he couldn’t argue. With Jojo cuddled warm against his side, it’s not as if he didn’t understand the feeling. He stroked his husband’s cheek before kissing him gently. “Dearest Jojo, if you wish for it, you need only ask.” As if it was the simplest thing in the world.
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Rock Bottom
Joe Liebgott x OC
*Rated T for language and adult themes. (5,471 words)
“Have you guys seen that new girl?” Frank Perconte asked as he squeezed into a small seat along the dining table bench.
“What new girl?” Bill Guarnere asked through a bite of food.
“The new intelligence girl,” Frank said as means of explanation.
“She’s an intelligence officer?” Joe Liebgott asked.
“I heard she was with the OSS before this,” Pat Christensen added.
“I don’t think intelligence officer,” Frank pushed the food around on his plate, “but apparently she speaks like 20 languages.”
“No,” Joe said doubtfully, “no way, that’s so many.”
“Who knows? Once you know one language it’s easier to pick up others,” David Webster said.
Joe shot him an annoyed look.
“I think she’s from the Bronx too, Web.”
“Well hey, there ya go! There’s so many languages going around in the Bronx, she probably picked them up there. It’s so much easier to learn languages when you’re young ya-“
“Where’d you get all this info?” Bill cut David off.
“Luz.” Frank was barely intelligible with his mouth full.
“Hm,” Bill grunted. The information was likely true coming from George Luz, the kid had a way of finding things out.
Their formal introduction to the newest G-2 recruit occurred the next day prior to starting their classroom instruction. The men hadn’t expected the classroom time. They knew the forecast had predicted rain but they didn’t dare to hope Sobel would let them off just because of “a little water”. However, by eleven, the early morning drizzle had grown into a downpour that even Sobel didn’t want to be caught in. He relinquished his company to the instruction of basic compass and map reading.
“Gentleman,” Sobel addressed them dryly, his hands folded behind his back, “before we get started, I would like to introduce you to the newest member of the intelligence general staff.”
The men were gathered in a large tent propped up by recently constructed whitewood. Beside Sobel stood a woman dressed neatly in an army issued pencil skirt, jacket and tie.
“This is Valerie Marchetti, she will be working with the intelligence office as a linguist.”
“Told ya she knew like 20 languages,” Frank whispered to Joe.
“Italian!” Bill nudged Johnny Martin.
“Please make every effort to make her feel welcome,” Sobel finished unenthusiastically, “Alright, let's get started. Radio men, follow Ms. Marchetti.”
“Lucky!” Floyd Talbert clapped George on the shoulder as he stood up. George winked at him with a grin.
“So, what’s she like?” Floyd asked as they headed back to the barracks.
“Aw she’s an angel,” George enthused, “so sweet, and she knows her stuff too!”
“You’d think anyone that pretty was an angel, Luz,” Frank said.
“That,” George said, “is because angels are beautiful.”
But George wasn’t the only one over the moon to have a woman among them. All of the Toccoa men were eager for any chance to ogle Valerie. They were oversexed and grateful to have a beautiful woman in their midst, if only for the hope of earning a smile. Most of the men were limited in their interactions with her seeing as she was part of the intelligence general staff but somehow Bill really got to know her, and by extension, Johnny Martin did too. They became a trio on nights out. Bill jumping from group to group, socializing with all the men while the more mellow Johnny posted up at a table with Valerie.
“Does she actually know 20 languages?” Shifty asked Bill innocently.
“Nah, not actually twenty, but she knows quite a few. She’s damn smart!” Bill said taking a long drink of his beer.
“What languages does she know?” Joe asked.
“Italian, her pa’s Italian. Polish ‘cuz of her ma. Yiddish and I think her German’s okay too,” Bill listed.
Joe nodded thoughtfully, “not bad,” he admitted. “Not gonna be any use to us if we go to Japan though.”
Bill shrugged, “who knows where we’re goin’, they got her here for a reason.”
“Was she posted somewhere else before this?” Moe Alley asked.
“She was a code breaker! Can you believe that? So smart,” Bill shook his head in awe.
“Ya sound like you’re in love there, Bill,” Joe teased.
“God damn right, I love that girl. She’s great!”
Joe chuckled, she was a good looking dame that was for sure. Just his type: curvaceous, dark hair and warm eyes. He admired her just as much as every other guy in the bar. There were plenty of local women around, some of who Joe had gotten to know quite well, but there was something about that army pencil skirt that just did it for Joe.
“She gotta fella?” Joe heard himself asking.
“Why? You interested Joe?” Bill asked.
Joe shrugged, “just curious.”
Bill looked over his shoulder where Valerie sat smiling, her full lips painted a rich red. “I don’t think so, but I’ll tell ya what Joe, she’s not any ol’ dame. She’s a spicy one that’s for sure. She’ll tell you what’s what.”
Yeah, Joe found that out for himself the first time he experienced classroom instruction with Valerie Marchetti.
“Well, actually we’d actually refer to this group as the Allgemeine SS,” Valerie said.
“Deutsche Ausrüstungswerke is German Equipment factories so I don’t-“ Joe defended.
“Well yes, but it’s important to know that this is an armaments division under the SS, Allgemeine SS.”
“Are you sure? You said yourself you aren’t fluent in German, are you sure you’re translating-“
“Yes. I don’t speak fluent German but I know these terms and I know the organization of the SS. You would do well to listen to me, I know what I’m talking about.” Valerie snapped.
“Okay, calm down,” Joe threw his hands up.
Valerie sniffed at his gaslighting before spinning on her heel and walking away. After that it was game over, nothing about her was attractive to Joe any longer; not her silky, dark curls, not her full red lips, not the way the dark lines on her hose travelled seductively up her leg. He decided she was more trouble than she was worth.
A cheer rose up from the dart boards that Friday night where Bill, Johnny, and Bull were playing darts with Valerie. She was wearing trousers that night, which Joe found rather flattering. But he caught himself as his gaze travelled down from her waist, and quickly looked away.
“Okay, if I make this last one, drinks are on me.” Valerie bit her lip in concentration.
“Well now I kinda want you to win,” Bill said jovially.
“Ah!” The men around her cheered again as the dart hit another bullseye.
“Damn, how do you do it?” asked Don Malarkey in awe.
Valeria smiled coyly and shrugged. “Who needs a drink?” she asked to the men gathered.
“Nah, you can’t possibly cover all the drinks here,” Bill held up his hand in protest, a cigarette burning between his fingers.
“Don’t worry about it Bill, I pretty much owe everyone in here a drink anyways after the way they all tripped over themselves to buy me a drink when I first got here.”
The men sung her praises all the way up to the bar where Valerie instructed the tender to pour everyone in proximity a beer and to put it on her tab. She had come up right where Joe had been standing with Moe. Valerie glanced down at his nearly empty glass, “you need a beer Joe?” she asked.
“No thanks, still workin’ on this one.” Joe held up his glass.
“James?” Valerie asked Moe. He nodded appreciatively and accepted the drink even though his original glass held more than Joes.
“You sure Joe?” Valerie asked in a sing song voice. It grated on Joe’s nerves.
“I’m good, thank you though Valerie.” His dark eyes met hers. The piercing darkness of them sent a shiver down her spine and she abruptly looked away, blushing.
Joe was walking back from the latrine later that night when he heard some voices out in the dark, in the direction of HQ. The tone of the two male voices that carried on the air made Joe stand to alert. The speakers weren’t too loud, but there was a forcefulness to them. Then the voice of an agitated female broke through. A coldness rushed into Joe blood. He rushed towards the noise. He came upon two F company men who were walking on either side of Valerie. They were walking fast, the pace clearly set by Valerie who sped forward. The men kept in step with with her all while trying to box her in between their bodies.
“Hey!” Joe snapped, stopping them in their course, “what the hell is going on here?”
Joe looked at Valerie, a chilling look in her eyes: fear.
The men hardly seemed bothered by Joe’s presence. “We’re just making sure this young lady gets back to her quarters safely,” one said.
“Are you?” Joe asked, “do you even know her?”
“Sure we do,” the other said arrogantly, “mind your business pal.”
“Val, you know these guys?” Joe asked. Even with adrenaline coursing through his body he winced internally at his use of her nickname. He wasn’t familiar with her like that, why did he call her Val in that moment?
“Don’t worry about it Joe, I can take care of myself,” she said firmly, “I’m just right here,” she turned towards the main HQ building where she was posted up with the other few females. The men made to follow her into the darkness. Although it was only yards away, there were too many spots of darkness for Joe to feel comfortable letting those men follow her all the way up to her doorstep. Joe stepped in front of them, giving Valerie the time and space to disappear into the fold of the night.
“What’s your problem man?” one of the men snarled.
“It’s late, you’re just gonna have to accept you struck out tonight,” Joe sneered back.
The other man, who was significantly larger than Joe, took a menacing step forward. “She your girl or something?” he asked with narrow eyes.
“She’s no ones girl,” Joe said, and he turned away to head back to his barracks.
“Hey, you should’ve stayed out of it, guy.” Then Joe felt a hand on his collar spin him around before a fist made contact with his eye.
“Do you know what guys from F company?” Edward Tipper asked as he took in the blue and blackness that was beginning to come out around Joe’s eye socket.
Joe shrugged into his breakfast, “whatever, I’m not worried about it.”
“Those bastards,” Moe said, “we oughta give them what they deserve.”
“I said I’m not worried about it,” Joe said, “will you drop it?” His friends reluctantly sat back.
It was then Joe noticed Valerie standing a few feet away, a breakfast tray clutched in her hands. She was staring mournfully at the injuries he incurred. As soon as his eyes met hers she quickly walked to the table where Johnny sat, taking a place beside him and disappearing behind the figures of the Easy Company men she loved. Not Joe, he was not part of that group.
“Joe,” Valerie came up behind him as he was bussing his tray. He turned around to face her. Bags hung under her eyes but her signature red lipstick was applied flawlessly.
“Yeah?” he asked impassively.
“Um, I..” she hesitated, taking in his appearance. His jacket was unbuttoned, revealing his PT shirt. His dog tags hung heavy around his lean neck. His cheek bones were sharp, the top of the left one was split just slightly below where the blueness had spread to fill his entire eye socket. Valerie winced looking at him.
“I just want to say I appreciate you checking in on me last night,” Valerie began.
“Don’t mention,” Joe flicked his hand dismissively and began to walk away.
“But you didn’t need to, I feel bad, you’re eye, I would’ve been fine-“
Joe looked at her like she was crazy, “Valerie I saw how you looked last night, you knew it wasn’t goin’ in a good direction.”
“I was almost back to my quarters, I would’ve been fine,” she insisted.
Joe let out a sharp laugh, “why were you alone anyway? Walking in the dark?”
“It’s none of your business,” Valerie said.
“Wow, this is a hell of a thank you, Val,” Joe winced. Damn it, why did he keep using that nickname?
Valerie wrinkled her own nose in discomfort, “well thank you, but next time I got myself.”
“Valerie I wasn’t going to just leave you there!”
“You don’t need to worry about me! I can take care of myself,” she doubled down.
“God damn it, would you get over yourself?” Joe snapped. Valerie reeled back in momentary shock.
“Get over myself?”
“Those guys were trouble! We both know it!”
“Get over myself? What do you mean? You don’t trust me-“
“I don’t even know you, I would’ve done the same for any girl-“
“So because I’m a girl you don’t trust me to take care of myself?”
“It was two against one.”
“I’m a soldier same as you and you were prepared to take them on-“
“Don’t be ignorant, it’s diff-“
“Ignorant? Who’s calling who ignorant?”
“See, you just think you’re so much better than every-“
“I have to be better than everyone! I have to work twice as hard as everyone here!”
“In your cozy little intelligence office? Yeah, sure, try doing the stuff we have to do.”
“I have to train too! I’m strong!”
“But not strong enough to-“
“I am strong enough!”
“Look what those bastards did to me, you don’t think they would’ve done the same to you?”
“Well, maybe not, because like you said I’m just a girl.”
“Yeah well let me tell you that’s exactly why they could’ve done worse.”
“Do you just assume the worst of your compatriots?”
“Do you not? How dumb are you? I thought you were from the city!”
“You know what, just stay out of it next time Liebgott. I don’t want you getting injured on my behalf.” Valerie stormed away angrily.
“You’re welcome!”Joe shouted after her defiantly. “God damn it,” he cursed under his breath. He kicked a trash bin nearly kicking it over, “fuck this.”
Joe was still heated later that night when he finally retired to the barracks.
“Tough day, Joe?” Bull asked. A cigar hung from his mouth as he unlaced his boots.
“Little bit,” Joe eased down on his bed. His face throbbed where he had been hit. Bull looked up at him thoughtfully, “everything alright now?” he asked cryptically.
“All good, Bull,” Joe lay back on his cot exhaling.
“Not all good,” John Martin was suddenly standing over him, “you were fighting with Valerie?”
“Not really, it’s fine,” Joe draped an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the little light that filled their canvas living quarters.
“It better be, I heard you two shouting at each other earlier. What’d you do to deserve that?”
Joe sat up, “I didn’t do anything!”
John crossed his arms and eyed Joe suspiciously, “well, if she’s after you you probably deserve it.” He stalked off and Joe fell back onto his bed.
“She’s a tough one that Valerie,” Bull said.
“So I’ve heard,” Joe muttered.
“No shit from nobody,” Bull continued.
“You gotta point, Bull?” Joe snapped glaring at the guy in the bunk next to him.
Bull chewed on his cigar, carefully considering what he was going to say next, “it was good of you to look out for her. You did the right thing, Joe.”
Joe hadn’t expected that. He nodded at Bull then rolled over in his bunk. He didn’t know how much Bull knew, or what exactly he had heard through the grapevine, but Bull’s words meant more than he thought the would. Finally a little acknowledgment for preventing the crime he had seen coming. No matter how tough she was, there’s no stopping that when two men decide they’re going to do it.
Joe slid his arm under his pillow, trying to get comfortable. That’s when his hand grazed something hard and rectangular. From underneath his pillow he pulled out a chocolate bar. Wrapped around it, fastened with twine, was a note. In neat cursive were the words: You were right. Thank you for your help.
Joe couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Who the fuck was this woman.
She was a goddamn rule following narc when she wanted to be, that’s who she was. Joe and Moe may or may not have snuck out of the base one Tuesday night and gotten pissed at a nearby bar. They were too drunk to be cautious when they stumbled back onto base, their arms around each other, singing.
Valerie was walking along the well lit path to the women’s latrine when she ran into them.
“What are you guys doing?” she hissed confronting them.
“Hello sweetheart,” Moe slurred with a grin.
“Valerie!” Joe said enthusiastically, “wow thank you for the Hershey bar.”
Valerie flushed bright red, “you guys are being so loud! You’re going to get in trouble.” She looked them up and down, “how drunk are you?”
“Not drunk at all,” Moe shook his head.
Valerie wrinkled her nose, “sure smells like you are.”
“That’s rude Valerie,” Joe said jokingly.
“Yeah well you guys are going to get all of Easy in trouble tomorrow if you show up hungover.”
“We’ll be fine!” Moe waved his hand, “don’t worry about us, doll.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Valerie said sharply, “its the rest of the company you’re screwin’ over. Goodnight!” she walked off shaking her head.
“What a bitch,” Moe said off-handedly.
“She’s not a bitch,” Joe immediately snapped.
Moe swayed in place, grinning stupidly at his friend. “Whoa there, you’re not in love with her now too are you?”
Joe rolled his eyes and the men stumbled back to their barracks, now a little quieter.
He would never admit it after the way Valerie had confronted them, but waking up the next day was rough. Joe was determined to keep it together just to spite Valerie. He had muscled through the morning and was hoping for a moment of respite at lunch. But to his great misfortune, tuna casserole was being served. Joe’s stomach churned as he looked down into his plate. He was hungry but he was sure that the final remains of alcohol digesting inside of him would not be happy to share his stomach with this meal.
As he contemplated whether to eat or not, Joe felt eyes on him. He looked up to see Valerie’s sympathetic face from across the mess hall. She smiled at him tenderly at him and he immediately felt pathetic in her eyes. A irrational sense of anger flared up in him and he stabbed at the casserole with his fork. He brought a first big bite into his mouth all while maintaining eye contact with Valerie. The sympathetic smile dropped from her face as she watched his performance. She narrowed her eyes, her lip curling in disgust at his juvenile defiance.
After the meal ended she came up to him, her tray as empty as his was.
“Feeling alright, Joe?” she asked as sweet as syrup.
Perspiration was beginning to form on his forehead. He was not feeling alright, in fact he felt rather clammy. Moe had done the wise thing and only eaten his buttered bread. Joe was seriously regretting not doing the same.
“Feelin’ great, how’re you feeling, Valerie?” he asked obstinately.
“I’m feeling great too,” she said smugly, because she was, and he clearly was not even if he wasn’t admitting it. “Enjoy the rest of the day!” She sashayed off.
Luckily, the mess hall was mostly empty because as soon as she was out of sight, Joe dived for a nearby trashcan and regurgitated the lunch he had just consumed.
“Better out than in,” Moe said as means of comfort, looking equally washed up.
By the end of the week Joe was ready to go out again. Just as it happens to all young men, the short term memory of how he felt after a night of binge drinking had left him by that Saturday night. Having secured and successfully retained their weekend passes, Joe and his friends bought tickets to the dance that Saturday evening.
The majority of Easy Company had the same idea and they, along with the other companies of the 101st airborne, filled the local dance hall. Joe was having a pretty good time. Beer was flowing, the band was hopping, and there was an endless supply of beautiful women to dance with. Joe was taking a break from the dance floor when he spotted Valerie spinning across the room in the arms of a dark haired gentleman from another company.
“Look at her,” Edward said appreciatively from next to Joe.
“Who?” Joe asked, pretending not to know who his friend was referring to.
“I know you don’t like her much, but Valerie, she is a looker,” Edward whistled.
Joe scowled but allowed himself a moment to check Valerie out. She wore a slightly-outdated red belted dress. Little white flowers peppered the fabric from the hem to the shoulders where the cinched neckline generously revealed her delicate collarbones.
Joe cleared his throat, “yeah, but there’s lots of good lookin’ broads around tonight.”
Edward just shrugged and downed the rest of his beer before setting out for the dance floor again. Joe did his best to avoid Valerie. He distracted himself with drinks, jokes, and other beautiful women. Despite his best efforts Joe still found himself looking across the low lit dance floor directly into Valerie’s eyes when a version of Mood Indigo came on.
It wasn’t Valerie in his arms, it was another woman. A woman he hadn’t known long enough to truly enjoy the moody slow dance with. Valerie was in the arms of the same guy she’d been with all night and she did look like she was enjoying the dance. Joe realized she was enjoying it a lot more than he wanted her to be.
The glance they had shared had been brief, she had broken it off quickly to nestle her cheek against her fellas shoulder. But that short moment had stirred something in Joe. In the dark golden light of the numerous high-hanging light bulbs Valerie’s eyes had looked like melted amber. The shadows that flickered across the hall softened her face, giving it an ethereal look. She was breathtaking and Joe wanted to be the one with his arm around her waist. He wanted to be the one she leaned her cheek against. He felt an overwhelming unreasonable hatred for this random man he didn’t know simply because he was the one who held Valerie so close.
Once the song ended, Joe politely bid goodbye to his partner and made a beeline for Valerie. She stood talking to her partner and a few other guys Joe didn’t recognize. He approached their group stiffly, his hands in his pockets. Everyone looked surprised at his arrival, especially Valerie, who was obligated to introduce him considering she was the only one who really knew him.
After a quick nod to the group Joe said, “Valerie can I talk to you?” Valerie’s brow furrowed in confusion but she politely excused herself. Joe lead her to an unoccupied side of the room near the door.
“Is something wrong?” Valerie asked, a fresh glass of champagne clutched in her perfectly manicured hands. Joe had no clue as to what he had wanted to say to her or what exactly he wanted from her. His goal had simply been to remove her from that man’s presence. In all honesty, he had no plan because he was confused on how exactly he considered her; was she a friend? An enemy? Or just another beautiful woman?
“Well, I just wanted to give you the option to dance with me,” he hesitated, watching her face for a reaction, “or one of the other Easy guys,” he added.
“Um, I’m alright, thank you, I’ve been happy dancing with-“ she gestured back at her partner.
“That guy? Psh,” Joe said dismissively, “guys a cement mixer, don’t you wanna dance with someone good?”
Red rose up in Valerie’s cheeks, “who? Like you?” she asked.
Joe shrugged, “anyone’s better than that fool.”
“You don’t even know him, Joe.”
Fair point, Joe thought, but he didn’t like the guy. “I can tell he’s a dip, just look at him!” Joe laughed.
“This is a really terrible way of asking me to dance with you!”
“Hey, I’m doin’ you a favor.”
“Me a favor? Could you be more full of yourself?”
“Me full of myself? What about you little miss perfect. I’m not the one walking around acting like you know everything.”
“I know more than you!” “See there you go, why do you gotta go around putting people down?”
“No one seems to have a problem with me except you!” Valerie shot back.
“Take it outside lovebirds,” an intoxicated private said as he passed them.
His interruption killed the argument between them. Instead they just stood glaring at each other, dark brown eyes meeting golden ones.
Finally, Joe said, “come on, let’s dance.”
“You wish!” Valerie stomped on his foot.
Joe swallowed his curse, “fuck,” he said in a strangled a voice. Valerie turned to stalk away but Joe grabbed her elbow.
“Get off of me,” she hissed, trying her best not to make more of a scene than they already had.
“Come on.” Joe pulled her out the nearest door, throwing them both into the cool Georgian night. Now engulfed by darkness they were really free to fight it out.
“What the fuck was that for?” he demanded.
“Who do you think you are?” she shot back. “Interrupting my evening for what? Just to invite me on a pity dance? I don’t need your pity, I was enjoying myself quite a bit tonight until you started all this!” She threw her hands up in frustration. Some of the champagne from the glass still in her hand spilled over the side, onto her hand. “Ugh,” she exclaimed. She wiped her hand angrily on her dress.
Jealousy stabbed through Joe’s chest at her words. She had been enjoying herself with that guy. “What’s so special about that guy anyways? Didn’t you just meet him tonight?” he sneered.
Valerie opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. She closed it, examining him. A devilish smirk crossed her face, “oh is this what it’s about Joe? You jealous?”
Yes. “No!” he said, “I just don’t know why you’re all moony over this guy. This is a social, not something you bring a date to.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t believe me about what? This isn’t a place for dates? Not usually-”
“That you’re not jealous! What’s your problem Joe? If you’re interested in me just be a man and tell me.”
“Typical, you thinking that everyone has got to be in love with you.”
“Then tell me why you’re being so rude tonight! Either you’re jealous or you hate me.” Was there a third option? Because Joe felt like he was somewhere in between. He definitely didn’t like Valerie. She got under his skin like no one else. At the same time, there was a magnetism about her that kept drawing him in. Those eyes, those lips, even that temper. He wanted to grab her and kiss her just to shut her up.
“And if you hated me you wouldn’t be bothering with all this!”
Joe was barely even listening to her at this point.
He could feel his blood pumping; the adrenaline and anger mixing together to create a roar in ears that made it impossible to comprehend everything she was saying. He knew he was going to do it even as he counseled himself against it. He surprised himself with his sudden movement; he snatched her waist and pulled her into a hard kiss.
Immediately, she pushed him away. “What the hell!” she threw the remainder of her champagne in his face. Cooly, Joe wiped the liquid off his face with the sleeve.
“You told me to tell you!”
“Not like that!”
He stood glaring at her. She glared back, her now empty glass hanging pointlessly from her hand. There was nothing but silence between them, and the chirp of insects in the night sky. The faint sounds from the festivities inside filtered out but Joe and Valerie were completely in their own world, in a standoff.
Then suddenly, mutually, something shifted between them. Flaring rage turned to lust. Simultaneously they lunged for each other. Joe wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hungrily snaking up her thigh. Valerie’s fingers twisted in his hair, tugging at the thick, dark tendrils. He bit down on her lip as she pulled on his hair. Their kisses were messy and hungry; all the pent up anger and tension that had built up between them expressed in an intimate power struggle as they moved to devour each other.
“You drive me crazy,” Joe pulled away for breath.
Her lipstick was completely gone, its last traces staining her swollen mouth red. “I can’t stand you,” she retorted. He kissed her again, tangling her hand in her hair. Their pace slowed from the previous feverish speed to something more sensual without losing its fervor. Joe had her pressed against the building wall. His hands cupped her her jaw and slid down her throat. His mind was muddled with his detestation for this woman and the aching physical desire that was taking over him. She must have felt similarly as one hand pushed against his pelvis, as if warding him off, while the other dug fingernails into the nape of neck, forcing him in closer.
Once again they surfaced for air, this time taking time to really look at each other. The sound of their panting filled the space around them as her eyes searched his for some explanation.
“What’re we doing, Joe?” her voice was oddly vulnerable. Joe traced her jaw with a calloused thumb.
“I don’t know.” He pushed away from her and ran a hand through his tousled hair. Cold air entered the space where their bodies were previously connected. It sent a shiver through Valerie. “I don’t know,” Joe repeated.
He stepped back even further into the dark, his hand on his hips. He kicked a rock on the ground.
“You don’t like me,” Valerie said with the slight intonation of a question. Joe sucked his teeth. “And,” she continued slowly, “I don’t know if I like you.”
“I don’t know how I feel about you,” Joe said.
Valerie crossed her arms, her eyes bore into him. She was waiting for him to say something else, to offer a but. But it never came.
After a few unbearable minutes of silence she finally said, “I’m going back inside, Joe.” The patch of darkness he stood in was filled with a momentary field of light as she opened the door. Then, she was gone and Joe was alone in the darkness.
Joe did his best to avoid Valerie after that, but he felt her golden eyes on him in the mess hall. He wanted to provide her with answers, to tell her how he was feeling, but he didn’t know. He told himself there was a nothing to like about her - she was a pretentious kiss ass who seemed to have every guy wrapped around her finger. But he saw through her - he wasn’t going to fall for her like everyone else had.
Yet, she consumed his thoughts. All the pieces of love and hate swirled in his mind as he desperately tried to conceive a clear way to explain how he was feeling. He didn’t like her, but he might be falling in love with her. But even if he had realized this sooner, it still came too late.
In a matter of weeks she was stepping out with the dark haired guy she had hit it off with that night. He was a boring, strait laced guy, or at least that’s what Joe had gathered from Bill. The guys dullness was obvious. From what Joe witnessed, there was no fire between them. Not that it was his place to care, he reminded himself. Every time Joe saw them together he avoided her gaze. He knew he would see that look that was begging him to step in, to step up and interrupt this course she was on. But, as long as she was with this guy Joe had an excuse not to love her.
#hbo war#band of brothers#joe liebgott#joe liebgott x oc#fanfiction#BoB#hbo band of brothers#angst#heartbreak
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At Least a Foot
Author/creator: hutchhitched Square filled and prompt: G4, hot chocolate (image) Title: At Least a Foot Rating: G Summary: With snow in the forecast, Peeta makes a run to the grocery store so he can keep his roommate and best friend Katniss full of hot chocolate. Word count: 1191 Author’s/Creator’s notes: There’s something thrilling about the rush of grocery store shopping when a storm’s on the way. I have many, many fond memories.
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The wind blows, and Katniss Everdeen looks up from her book and stares out the window. It’s dark, only a lone streetlight shining dimly in the gloomy night. There’s nothing quite like winter in West Virginia, especially as the days grow shorter, counting down to the equinox. She hates it—hates everything about the cold and the snow and the freezing temps that remind her of all the bad things that have ever happened to her.
Peeta Mellark, her roommate and best friend, knocks gently, and she shifts her gaze toward him. He smiles encouragingly at her, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands and holds it out for her to take. She accepts gratefully, taking a sip and closing her eyes at the taste. Peeta makes the absolute best hot chocolate in the world. He always knows just the right number of marshmallows to add, too. It’s like a sixth sense of his, and she’s the one lucky enough to benefit from it.
“Just watched the weather forecast, and it looks bad,” he informs her. “I think I better make a grocery store run in case we’re stuck for a few days. We’re running low on the staples. You want anything in particular?”
She looks at him, blinking like an owl. She has half a mind to tear into him, but that’s going a bit far, even for her. She’s never been the touchy-feely type, but she’s always civil. At least until someone proves they deserve otherwise.
“You’re going out? It’s starting to snow.”
“Well, yeah,” he answers, but he tries to placate, as well. “It won’t be long. I promise. We need some things. You know how it gets on this street when there’s significant accumulation, and all forecasts are calling for that. I know we won’t starve, but do you really want to be trapped here without any way to make more of that drink you’re holding?”
She considers her mug and shakes her head sadly. Peeta’s right. They’re almost out of milk and eggs and bread, and they don’t have too many rolls of toilet paper left either. They both know better, so Peeta’s only correcting the mistake both of them helped make.
“Will you get some of those frozen cheese dough things? They’re so good,” she asks hopefully. “And maybe some cans of lamb stew. You know those are my favorite.”
“Anything sweet?”
“Not if you’ll keep me stocked in this.” She indicates her drink, and he nods in acknowledgement.
Crossing to her, he brushes a lock of hair off her forehead and kisses her there. “Be back soon. Leave the light on for me.”
The house is quiet after he leaves with only the howling wind blowing outside and the creaks and groans of floorboards filling the silence. He won’t be gone long, she knows, perhaps only an hour before he’s safely home and bearing dozens of bags with her favorite snacks. They’ve known each other for so long, they practically communicate by telepathy. The only reason he bothered to ask her what she wants from the store was to let her know he was leaving.
She gives up trying to read the book. Instead, she moves to the living room and stands at the back window where she can watch the woods behind her house as the snow turns from swirling flakes to fat, heavy droplets. It’s the kind of snow that shuts down interstates and breaks tree branches if there’s enough accumulation, and that looks likely. The woods turn from gray to white in less than twenty minutes.
The ground’s covered by the time Peeta returns, and he’s laden down with bags of food. She helps him unpack them, arranging it all on the countertops to see what treasures he brought home. He regales her with humorous tales of frantic shoppers as they fought over the last box of pancake mix when there were plenty of bags of flour nearby. Peeta pities those who can’t make their own. He always claims they’re better from scratch.
His purchases are mostly practical—bread, milk, eggs, soup—except for things he bought because he knows she likes them. Her family never ate pre-packaged food when she was growing up. They couldn’t afford it, so Peeta indulges her fascination with it when he can. Her favorite is the box of frozen donuts, which she tucks into a corner of the freezer next to the cheese buns he bought at her request.
“It’s coming down hard,” he muses as he looks outside. “I’d say schools will be closed tomorrow since there’s no way to clear the streets until this stops. We won’t have to go into work. You want to stay up late and watch a movie or two? I can make all the bad things, and we can work our way through them.”
“Yes on the movie. No on the snacks,” she answers. “If we’re going to be snowed in for a few days, I don’t want to blow through our junk food in the first few days. Besides, there’s roast and potatoes in the crock pot, and it smells delicious.”
“Sometimes I forget how practical you are.” His grin is infectious, and she shrugs her sweater around her tighter and shivers as the wind howls.
“You love it and you know it.”
“I love you,” he answers simply and pulls her in for a hug. “Now, go sit. I’ll get your dinner.”
By the time he sets a bowl and mug of hot tea in front of her, she’s pulled up their favorite winter movie and is cuddled underneath a pile of blankets. They eat quickly, enjoying the flavor, and snuggle together until the movie’s over. They switch over to an epic, then. They’ve both seen it dozens of times, so they don’t pay too close of attention. Instead, they let their eyes droop and fall asleep a little before midnight on the couch together.
Peeta stirs awake before her the next morning, a throwback to helping his dad at their family bakery and café when he was a teenager, but Katniss isn’t far behind. She’s an early riser, too, although that habit was formed from necessity more than anything else. They blink awake as the list of school closings flashes across the TV screen. Neither are surprised to find their district closed. He stretches and helps her off the couch. Crossing to the window, they gape at the piles of snow that greet them, shimmering and sparkling in the early morning sunlight.
“That’s at least a foot,” he gasps. “A foot! With more on the way this afternoon.”
“Good thing you went to the grocery store last night.”
“Yeah. No way to get there today.”
“And besides, we have all the ingredients for pancakes now.”
Peeta grins at her, and she can’t help the little ping that shoots through her when he runs his fingers through the riot of tangled blonde curls that frame his face.
“Is that a hint?”
She smiles at him. “I’ll even help.”
“C’mon, then. I’m starving.”
They make them together, and Katniss thinks they’re the best she’s ever had.
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Hiii♡ can I request a fluffy smut with jungkook and a lot of rain. Like it started raining and you're both drenched and hurry back home and... Yeah well, you're both cold and drenched and one thing leads to another... you probably get it hehe Thank you🥺💕
Hello!
Here’s a lil rain smut for ya, not a whole lotta fluff but I threw some in there. Hope you enjoy!
-Admin Zesty
It wasn’t supposed to rain today.
Or, at least, that’s what the weather forecast had said that morning when you and Jungkook had left the house. Regardless, you had been caught out in the downpour, rivets of it running through your hair and down your body, plastering your thin clothes to your form.
Jungkook was no better. The white long sleeved shirt he had thrown on that morning clung to his body, outlining the shape of his shoulders, the muscles in his back. He pulled you into the apartment behind him, both of you laughing at how soaked you were. You were lucky the weather was so warm or else the experience would have been horribly unpleasant.
“Why don’t you change into something dry?” Jungkook said, pulling you close to kiss your forehead. “Or else you’ll catch a cold. I’m going to light the fire.”
You pulled away to look up at him, your hands nesting into his soaked shirt. “The fire? It’s May.”
He crinkled his eyes at you, giving you a mocking voice. “I know, but I want to open the windows so we can listen to the rain and I don’t want it to get drafty, genius.”
You laughed as you untangled yourself from him and disappeared into your shared bedroom, stripping off the soaked clothing piece by piece. Grabbing a towel you dried off your body and rubbed out your hair before running a comb through it. Looking at the mirror you held back a grimace. You looked rough but honestly, who wouldn’t after they got completely drenched on the city streets.
You decided to forsake the pants and just put on a simple pair of underwear and one of Jungkook’s baggy t-shirts. He wouldn’t mind and honestly, they were beyond comfortable. You liked how they smelled of him, oaky with a hint of pine.
You returned to the living room to find Jungkook crouched stoking the fire, still in his soaked clothes. As promised, the windows were open and the steady sound of rain filled the room alongside the crackling fire. He was right, the open windows brough a chill to the room and the fire was a welcomed asset. The sound of the heavy rain through the trees silenced any sounds of traffic from the street below and you were high enough up that you just had a view of dense forest and partial bits of cloudy sky. The trees stood ominously as the sun slowly set and a soft darkness settled over the room making you glad for Jungkook’s presence.
You moved behind him, sliding to the floor before wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his back, soaking in his warmth.
“What are you doing? You just changed and now you’re going get wet again,” he said. Satisfied with the fire he put down the poker and leaned back into your embrace, intertwining his fingers with yours against his toned stomach.
“I don’t care,” you whispered, lips brushing against his back. You felt him shiver from the subtle movement, the fire quickly doing it’s job of warming the room. He turned in your arms to look at you before scooping his head down to catch your lips.
The kiss was slow, gentle, like he had all the time in the world. The rain pattered outside and a gentle breeze blew throughout the room as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
He laughed at your earnestness and smiled against your lips. “Someone’s a little eager after all that walking we just did. Did that not wear you out?”
You pulled back and gave him a sardonic look. “Really, Jungkook? You think walking four blocks in the rain is enough to keep me from jumping your bones the second we get home? Guess again.”
He laughed again and leaned back on his hands, his long legs spread out on either side of your crouched form. “Maybe I’m tired.”
You leaned forward, bracing your hands on either side of his narrow hips and brought your face right up to his. “Bullshit.”
He laughed, knowing you were right. Jungkook was never too tired for sex.
“You have to get out of these clothes though,” you said, pulling at his shirt. It clung to his skin, sticky to the touch but through it’s thin material you could see his dark, erect nipples and the canyon of his abs in the firelight.
He watched you, lazily, as you slid your fingers under the hem and lifted the damp fabric up over his head. You moved to straddle him, brushing your fingertips over his tanned skin, sticky from the rain. You ran them along his collarbone and down his torso before coming to a rest on the waistband of his pants. Jungkook watched your movements like a cat watching a mouse in the garden, with feigned interest but a body poised to strike.
You tugged on his pants and gave him a pout. “Are you going to help with these or just watch?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “This was your idea, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes knowing he was getting a kick out of making you do all the work and unzipped his pants to reach down and palm him through his underwear. You were a little surprised to feel how hard he was already for the disinterest he was feigning.
“Seems like someone’s a little more eager than they’re letting on.” You whispered and Jungkook let out a slow grin, knowing he was caught.
“I’m a little interested.”
You increased the pressure on his bulge and felt his cock jump under your hand. “Just a little?”
Jungkook groaned, his head lulling back to expose his long neck and Adam's apple which bounced as he swallowed. You felt heat pool in your core at the sight of him completely under your control.
“Okay,” he panted as you removed your hand and stood up, eyeing him as you slid your panties down your legs and tossed them away, his eyes devouring your every move. “I’m more than just a little interested.”
You settled back over him, reaching down to slip his member through the hole in his boxers, making sure to push them down past his balls so he wouldn’t have obstructed access. He was almost fully hard just from your palming but you gave him a few pumps, watching the way his face twisted into one of unadulterated pleasure.
“You’re g-going to have to stop t-that,” Jungkook stuttered, his face flushed red. The rain began to pick up outside and a cool breeze caressed your legs. “Or I’m going to c-come.”
“Ready, then?” You asked lifting your hips so that you could line him up with your entrance.
“I was born ready,” he whispered and you pushed onto him in one fluid motion, reveling in the way he filled you up entirely.
“Fuck yes,” Jungkook whined, feeling your tight walls around his cock. You began to softly grind your hips into him and he finally moved from his relaxed position to move up and grip your hips, pulling you down into him as you moved. You wrapped one arm around his neck to balance as you rode him. Mist had begun to settle outside with the darkness of the night and the steady fall of the rain made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.
Jungkook was growing impatient at your slow pace, you could feel it in the way his hands tightened on your hips and the little growls he let out in the back of his throat as he leaned forward to capture your neck with his lips and nip at the sensitive skin as you worked him towards his release. You loved the power you held over him in this position, the way his body responded to every roll of your hips and the depths he could reach deep inside you.
Finally, his impatience got the best of him and he flipped the both of you over, not entirely graceful since his pants were still on and you both laughed at the imperfectness of the situation. Jungkook hovered over you in the firelight and you reached up to caress his face, studying his eyes.
“I love you,” you whispered.
Jungkook slowly pushes back inside of you, reaching down to seize your lips with his own before looking into your eyes. “I love you, too.”
He begins to move his hips into you fervently and you wish you could hold onto this moment forever. The sheer adoration and trust you had in this man made your heart soft and you clung to his back as he picked up his pace, chasing his release.
It’s a light touch, a caress, a flick of the tongue and a brush of hot air as he thrusts himself into you again. And again. Until he is sputtering out of control, spilling himself deep inside you, and collapsing beside you on the floor in front of the fire.
He immediately reached for you, wanting to feel you in the security of his arms and you fold yourself into him, welcoming the embrace. You wrap your arms around him, brushing the hair out of his eyes, sweat glistening on his forehead. Now he looked spent.
“Your pants are still wet,” you whispered and he chuckled against you, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips until brushing against your soft lips.
“I don’t care,” he responded before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as the rain began to lighten up outside.
#bts smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook#bts#fanfiction#bts imagines#asks#anon asks#admin zesty
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@canisfuria asked: [ emotions meme @ roy ] // "Don't worry, Colonel: I'm useless in the rain, too."
Strong Emotions | No Longer accepting.
He got lost in his own thoughts again. While his team started preparing to leave, the end of the work day in sight, he found himself staring off into the distance. His calendar sat to his left, open to this week. Per usual, he and the Lieutenant checked to make sure both of their calendars were up-to-date with all of the meetings, appointments, and deadlines he had. They finished that task twenty minutes ago, and his pen sat next to the last thing he wrote:
Saturday, 6PM: Dinner w/ G&E
Gracia invited him over once per week now that he was officially in Central, and he accepted. Usually, going to the Hughes’s home meant he ate an actual meal while catching up and playing with Elicia. Last week was the first time he stopped by, and he could still vividly remember when Elicia opened the door to him.
It hadn’t helped that he forgot to change out of his uniform. Seeing the look in his niece’s eyes after she realized he wasn’t Daddy tore his heart to shreds. Instantly, he scooped her up in his arms and let her cry as he swallowed his grief. Even after Elicia went to bed, and he had time to visit with just Gracia, he kept that pain at bay. He stayed strong for the people he considered family. Once he got home, he only felt numb and empty.
Just like now. Black eyes watered, but they never let the tears go. They couldn’t. If they did, that meant rain, and he was useless in the rain.
Fuery's voice cut through the static in his mind. Most of his subordinates left for the day save for the Lieutenant. Roy stopped staring at the same spot on his desk to meet Fuery’s gaze. Was he really that obvious? Yeah, he supposed so. His erratic sleep schedule combined with poor eating habits undoubtedly showed by now. Damn, he was exhausted... but he still couldn’t let it rain. It wasn’t in the forecast today.
“Then I guess we should count ourselves lucky that it’s not raining,” he replied as he rose from his chair. He needed to go home too---as if he could get anything done at this point. He gave Fuery’s shoulder a gentle, comforting squeeze before he moved to put on his coat. “But, if you ever find yourself stuck in it, I’ll hold an umbrella for you.”
His subordinates didn’t have to pretend they didn’t feel emotions around him. They all lost a friend that day, and he wasn’t about to judge them for grieving. The only person he judged was himself.
“Have a good rest of your night, Fuery. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
#canisfuria#let the flames begin; ic#let the flames begin; answers#let the flames begin; promptedanswers#[ this was supposed to be strong emotions for the muse#not for the mun! but I played myself!#aaaaaaaaaaaaa ]#Be careful making wishes in the dark [QUEUE]
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Episode 11 “A Place Without Clouds”
[Headmaster’s Office]
The day of the Festival
Grimm: Far away, I can see huge clouds that look like whales, but this area is completely clear.
Trey: Yeah, it seems like we can smoothly complete the ceremony, right, headmaster?
Crowley: Hmm...
Deuce: Why are you hesitant? All of us believed there would be clear skies on the day and rehearsed until today!
Crowley: Yes, but even so, look outside the window! As Grimm says, they are far away, but the rainstorm clouds are approaching!? It will only be a matter of time before it reaches the school, and to continue with the ceremony at this time will be...
Phone rings
Crowley: Hmmm? The number is...private. (Picks up) Hello? Yes? Idia Shroud? I-I never told you my phone number, right? How did you get this num-what? Ceremony? I was just talking to Deuce Spade about whether to cancel the ceremony. Yes...yes...what?!! T-that will be a problem!! Excuse me, wait!? Idia Shroud!!! (Phone call ends) ...He hung up.
Deuce: What did Idia say?
Crowley: He said to not worry about the weather, and requested that the ceremony take place for sure. And, he also remotely controlled my computer and sent the reporters e-mails- “The ceremony will be taking place as planned and we will be waiting for your interviews of the school”. I’m at a loss...if it comes to this, doesn't it mean that I really, really have to carry out the Wishing Stars festival!?
[Woods Behind Campus - Big Tree]
Cater: Trey and Deuce, are they alright? It’s a bit far away, so I can’t really tell.
Ace: Well, if it’s Deuce you can tell. He’s definitely trembling from nervousness.
Deuce: I-it’s finally time...c-c-can I e-even dance properly?
Trey: Deuce, don’t get so stiff. Relax your shoulders. We were specially chosen to do the ceremony, but you won’t be able to dance as rehearsed if you’re like that.
Crowley: It’s as Trey Clover says. The news reporters that will be covering our school’s celebration of the Wishing Stars festival have all arrived. I’m counting on you, alright?
Deuce: Y-Yes sir!
Crowley: By the way, where is the vital Idia Shroud?
Trey: He seems to be late.
Crowley: Please don’t tell me that he’s not coming.
Deuce: I really don’t think that...well...but it is Idia Shroud...no, we decided this from a man-to-man competition. Idia will definitely show up!
???: ..........AaaaAaAaAaaAA...!!!!!!!! Footsteps running
Deuce: Oh! That person that’s running over while screaming something...!
Idia: G-g-g-g-going outdoors in clothes like this...it’s too embarrassinggg ahhhhhhhhhh!!! Pants Oh- my bad for being l-late.
Deuce: Idia! It’s great you came!
Grimm: Hmmm? What about Ortho? Shouldn’t you two be together?
Idia: Y-yea, he’ll come later. Th-there were a lot of ‘adjustments’ that I got caught up on.
Grimm: ‘Adjustments’?
Crowley: Anyway, it’s great you made it in time. Now, let’s begin the festival before the weather takes a turn for the worse.
Idia: Understood. Deuce, Trey, are you ready?
Deuce: ....
Idia: W-w-what?!
Deuce: No, it’s just that Idia today seems to have a completely different aura than usual.
Trey: Yeah, I felt the same way. Honestly, I thought you were going to spit out that you didn’t want to play the drums so I was surprised.
Idia: I-there really is no trust in me huh. Well I get what I deserve, yep I do. N-now that doesn’t matter. Rather than my aura, we should really think about what we can do to make the ceremony successful...
Thunder
Grimm: NYAA!!
Option A: “What a loud rumble!” Option B: “That was a really bright flash!”
Grimm: H-hey you, how could you stay calm? It was so scary!
Crowley: I was also a bit scared! It suddenly rumbled, and I was surprised. However, it really has come to this. I have to put a stop to this here. Everyone, the ceremony is cancelled!
Deuce: Wait, there isn’t any rain yet...
Crowley: You heard the rumble of thunder just now, right? I cannot allow you to continue under these circumstances. Besides, look! Above you! The rainstorm clouds have completely engulfed the skies.
Deuce: T-that’s true...
Grimm: You can’t even see the stars at all because of the huge whale clouds!
Crowley: You understand now, right? Holding the ceremony in this weather is too dangerous. I will evacuate the students, so all of you should also make preparations to leave.
Deuce: ....is it really going to end like this?
Trey: We can’t do anything about it, Deuce. We all did as much as we could. When it comes to the weather, there really is nothing we can do at all.
Deuce: But...we tried so hard just for today...to be able to study in this school, even though I’m still far from a model student, I was lucky enough to be chosen to represent the students, and I really wanted to tell my mother about how I carried through my role as ‘stargazer’ to make her happy......but now it ends halfway through like this!! Argh...damn!
Idia: Yep yep, muscle-brained people always suddenly loose their temper like that LOL
Deuce: I-Idia...?
Idia: You kept quietly mumbling over there by yourself. It was really annoying. Besides, isn’t it even weirder to sigh over a weather forecast that’s been scientifically conducted by the meteorological agency?
Deuce: HUH? What the hell did you just say??
Idia: Technology illiterate LOLLLLLLL I’m not the same as you. Unlike you, I don’t get so worked up over childish school traditions, I don’t run around just to get a shut-in otaku to participate in a ceremony, and I can’t collect 300 ‘wishing stars’. However...because Deuce really is an idiot, that’s why I decided to listen to Ortho’s wishes.
Deuce: Huh? What do you mean by that...
Idia: If the wishes can’t reach the stars, then we’ll deliver them to the stars.
Swoosh
Ortho: IDIA~~~!!!!
Idia: You came!!!!!!!!!! I’ve been waiting, Ortho!!!!
Grimm: NYA! W-what is this? What’s that amazing suit on Ortho?
Trey: Somehow, it looks like the design of the ‘wishing star robes’ too...
Idia: This is the attachment my brother made for me so that I can break through the planet’s atmosphere! It’s ‘Stargaze・Gear’!
Deuce: ‘Stargaze・Gear’....? W-wait, before that, did you just say you’d ‘break through the atmosphere’?
Ortho: YUP!
Idia: If the clouds are in the way, then just decorate the stars wherever there aren’t clouds. Have Ortho carry them up to the skies.
Everyone: EHHHHHHH~~~!?
Deuce: O-Ortho...isn’t it dangerous?
Ortho: It’s alright! It’s been tested many times, and more than anything it’s the body that my brother designed.
Deuce: So the two of you really plan to just fly through outer space?
Ortho: Of course!
Deuce: T-THAT’S AMAZING~~~~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Idia: Wha- wait- what!? Can you not suddenly let out such a loud noise?
Deuce: Idia, you really are truly amazing!!!!!
Idia: EH? Wait-, no-, stop, don’t cling to me! I really can’t deal with skinship! I-even I really wanted it to go well this year. For Ortho.
Idia: Deuce, Trey, what do the two of you plan to do?
Trey: Well...I could never have imagined that Idia would come out with flying machines like this. Since you’ve done that much, we have to do what we can.
Deuce: Of course! Ortho will surely deliver the ‘wishing stars’. The three of us should respond to that with the perfect dance and drums performance!
Idia: Hehe, K!! Now, let’s begin.
Ortho: I’ll move to the sports ground which will be the launching complex. Idia...see you later!!
Idia: Yup!
Deuce: Ortho!
Ortho: Hmm? What’s wrong, Deuce Spade?
Deuce: You said that you weren’t a student of this school, and that you and your brother counted as 1 student...but you are definitely the 4th ‘stargazer’. Let’s show everyone the best Wishing Stars Festival!
Ortho: Yep!!
Ortho runs off
Crowley: W-Wait a moment, all of you! What in the world are you planning to do?!
Grimm: NYAHAHA! Good luck, ‘stargazers’! My ‘wishing star’ depends on you!
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tips for surviving the pandemic: things i learned from my immigrant parents
It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a little over a week since the WHO announced that the coronavirus (COVID-19) was officially a pandemic. This has been a long, challenging week for a lot of people and it is nothing short of terrifying to read reports of what is happening in Asia and Europe as many predict that we’ll likely endure a similar fate here in the United States. In the midst of all of this chaos and uncertainty, I’ve been reminded of so many lessons that my Taiwanese immigrant parents taught me. I’m sharing them here so that others might also benefit. Thanks Ma. Thanks Daddy.
你昨天已經出去了.
“You already went out yesterday.“
1. Learn how to stay home. Our family is eight days into self-isolating at home and Tony asked me this morning if I had cabin fever. And strangely, the answer is no. I’m not. Not to downplay the difficulty of this moment but my experience with this “shelter-in-place” ordinance reminds of pretty much all my summers between kindergarten and 8th grade. Both of my parents worked full-time so summer was just three blissful months of nothing. No structure, no plans, no camps, no playdates, and no responsibilities. My parents never made me feel like I was missing a thing by staying home and I don’t remember ever feeling bored. There were always library books to read, stories to write, and thoughts to journal. Hours were spent playing school with my big sister (now a first grade teacher!), making up random games like who can avoid touching the carpet longest, learning Kim Zmeskal’s latest gymnastics floor routine, writing lyrics to Kenny G saxophone solos, and rehearsing for our variety show that we would perform to our tired parents at the end of the day. And that’s not even including the hours we spent watching The Price is Right, CHIPS, Knight Rider, and Airwolf (yep, no cable).
As a teenager I carefully plotted all my hangouts with friends so that I didn’t have too many consecutive days when I was out of the house. Whenever I asked my parents if I could hang out with friends, they would always say, “But you already went out yesterday. What’s wrong with staying home? Why do you always have to go out?” It was as if having too much fun two days in a row was off limits. If there was a big party on Friday, I would purposely make sure I stayed home Wednesday and Thursday just to increase the chances of being able to go out on Friday. I know a lot of people talk about how awful their high school years were but I was one of those lucky kids who had a really great group of friends that made me feel seen, loved, and cared for. The downside was that I couldn’t get enough of it. I was always thinking about the next hangout, the next event, the next thing. It took me all the way until my late twenties to fully appreciate the fine art of staying home and to finish my unexpected transformation into the expert homebody that I am today.
I’m reminded of that old quote by Blaise Pascal, “All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone."
It’s great to be out and about, but it’s also really important to learn how to stay home.
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晚上要吃什麼?清冰箱.
“What are we eating for dinner?” “Cleaning the fridge.”
2. Be creative with what you have. I love food. Not in a foodie sense, but I get a lot of pleasure out of eating. I’m not a food snob by any stretch of the imagination. I thoroughly enjoy a Stouffer’s frozen lasagna or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as much as I enjoy a fancy, inventive, Michelin-starred meal at Commis. What’s hard for me is when food is eaten as sustenance rather than with delight. But my parents taught me that you can always take pride in preparing a meal. No matter your ingredients.
My mom is an excellent cook. I know a lot of people think their mom is a good cook but my mom is legitimately skilled in the kitchen. There were some nights when I’d ask what was for dinner and my mom would just reply, “Cleaning the fridge.”
Now for some, this might sound terrifying. But my mom could honestly make something out of nothing. I still crave my dad’s simple egg and garlic fried rice. My parents raised me to be able to make an tasty meal just from rummaging in the pantry and fridge for random leftover things. There were plenty of summers where lunches and snacks were an individual culinary adventure for each of us kids. I still remember the day I witnessed my baby sister add a Kraft single on top of her onion ramen noodles. She saw my confusion, shrugged and said, “You should try it, it’s good.”
With all the hoarding folks have been doing during this pandemic, I’ve found myself feeling quite anxious. Trying to calculate if we have enough food. Estimating how many more meals we can eat at home before we need to make another grocery run. As someone who struggles with a scarcity mentality it has been hard not to panic. But then I keep reminding myself that I know how to make good food using just whatever’s available.
You know, I was pretty disappointed with Mary H.K. Choi’s second novel, Permanent Record, given how much I enjoyed her debut novel, Emergency Contact. But I was absolutely thrilled with the shine she gave to what her protagonist calls “Hot Snacks”.
Here’s an excerpt from Permanent Record that is a beautiful ode to creative food mashups and immigrant kids everywhere:
“I edit and post a Shin Ramyun Black video set to music. My favorite instant noodles with three flavor packets and so much garlic. It’s a classic Korean HotSnack, especially when you throw in cut-up hot dogs, frozen dumplings, extra kimchi - and this is where the artistry comes in- eggs, cheese, corn from a can, and a drizzle of sesame oil on top. And furikake if you’re feeling wealthy. The next night I put up a bacon, egg, and cheese not in a bagel but in a glazed honey bun. Laced with sriracha and pan fried on the outside. Then it’s chilaquiles with Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos and chorizo. Jamaican beef patty casserole disrespected with a smothering of Japanese curry and broiled. With Crystal Hot Sauce over the top and pickled banana peppers. I’m trolling with that one but the controversy is berserk. When I run out of old videos, I make saag paneer naanchos with Trader Joe’s frozen Indian food, and it’s a hit. Especially when I add yogurt and a thick layer of crushed-up Takis on top.”
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看連續劇.
“Watch soap operas.”
3. Find a way to escape. I’m generally pro technology but I’ll admit I’m a little bummed at the way iPhones and iPads have made TV viewing such an individual activity. I like how Disney+ has gotten some families back to watching TV together again. Although I will say, we really coddle our kids these days. I grew up in a time when movie ratings only applied in the theaters and we watched movies with our families like Alien, The Fly, and Gremlins. We were scared out of our minds and sometimes could only watch through the cracks between our fingers covering our eyes because it was so scary. Okay, this also might be why I can’t watch horror movies as an adult.
From a young age, my parents taught me that watching other people’s drama unfold on screen is one of the best way to escape your own drama. Some people say binge watching became a thing when the TV networks started releasing shows on DVD. Others give credit to Netflix releasing their original content a whole season at a time. But truth be told, I first learned how to binge watch from my parents.
We would rent 30-40 VHS cassette tapes from that random spot in Bellaire Chinatown. Can you picture it? You needed multiple plastic bags to transport that many VHS tapes.
Do you remember the one about the dying mother who needed to find homes for each of her 7 children? I don’t think it’s normal for a 10 year old to cry so much but you better believe it’s made me learn the true value of a soap opera escape hatch.
Are you in a pandemic? Now’s the perfect time to pick up that YA novel, binge that reality show, start that kdrama, or rewatch all six seasons of The Sopranos again.
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下個禮拜會下雨.
“It’s going to rain next week.”
4. Be informed about what’s ahead. If you ask either of my parents about the weather at any given time they can reliably tell you the daily percent chance of precipitation and humidity for at least seven days out. They’ve always been this way. They would inform me of the weather at various points throughout the week. They planned their yard work and car washes around the weather forecast. There’s something about the way the weather forecast is available to everyone. And it feels like it’s just a matter of making the small extra effort to access it and gain a slight advantage. I feel like so much of the immigrant mentality is to be diligent in making the right choices to not screw yourself over and seizing opportunities whenever you can. And it wasn’t just weather but this is such an obvious example of it.
I remember my dad saying to me once, "Can you imagine if someone decided to read every book in their local library? If they just went shelf by shelf and systematically read all the books? You could do it, you know. It’s free, it doesn’t cost any money to check out a book from the library. But no one really does it.”
I think immigrant parents get a bad reputation for forwarding chain letters and health/science hoaxes they get on email, WeChat and Line. And in a pandemic, yes, they are definitely susceptible to misinformation, rumors and flat out untruths. But the thought behind it seems right.
The mistrust of government leadership is actually quite relevant right now in this pandemic. Many immigrants left countries with governments that were overtly corrupt, oppressive, and used propaganda to influence its citizens. And while many Americans still take pride in living in a country that verbally champions freedom and democracy, the truth is that our government has already failed us and lied to us in many ways. During this pandemic, we cannot wait on leaders to tell us what to do. We must be diligent in reading for ourselves, seeking experts, using our critical thinking skills, and making preparations accordingly.
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會不會冷?
“Are you cold?”
5. Check in with yourself. Check in with others. I have so many memories of my parents walking through the living room and asking me and my sisters if we were cold. It felt like they couldn’t walk past the thermostat without asking us if they needed to raise it or lower it. As if they couldn’t hear us sneeze and wonder if they needed to turn off the ceiling fan. They couldn’t see us sitting in a dim room without turning on a light for us. There are so many times I fell asleep reading on the couch and woke up with a blanket over me. Or sometimes I was fully awake doing something random, like playing Egyptian Rat Screw with my sisters (a cardgame for the uninitiated), and my mom would walk by and wordlessly drop a warm, heavy blanket over my shoulders. That’s care, y’all. Consistent, immediate action, and often without words.
The tip here is to pay attention to your discomfort during a pandemic. There’s this immigrant stereotype of stoicism and that’s true to some degree but maybe the resilience is made possible not because of unnatural toughness but largely because immigrant parents can also be so incredibly perceptive and tender in some very tangible ways.
When everything is chaotic around you and you’re busy multitasking these next few months, don’t ignore your needs. Notice how you’re feeling. Physically and emotionally. Where are you carrying your stress and tension in your body? You don’t have to tough it out. Oh and remember to check in with your people on how they’re feeling. Is there a light switch you can turn on for someone?
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笑死人.
“Laugh to death.”
6. Laugh to survive. Look, we didn’t have the perfect family or anything like that. We’ve definitely had our share of difficult times, financial stress, health issues, arguments, and pain. But my parents also really knew how to laugh and taught us to laugh with abandon. Like, bent over, tears running out of your eyes, can’t breathe kind of laughing. Our dinner table was kind of like a writer’s room. It was difficult to tell a mediocre story. You had better come prepared with a punchline or a point. It was a tough crowd, every night. On many occasions I stopped myself halfway through a story upon the self-realization that there was no real way to land the plane. Polite laughs were nowhere to be found, except perhaps a charitable smile from my baby sister. But it didn’t stop us from trying. I think my sisters and I are all probably better storytellers for it and we definitely have learned to try to bring humor into difficult times.
I know that this pandemic is so incredibly dark and depressing that it can sometimes feel disrespectful, inappropriate, or childish to laugh at anything. But my parents taught me that you laugh to survive. Nothing is ever so dark that you can’t find a reason to laugh. And sometimes you really need to find something to laugh about.
I’ve been taking long breaks each day from major media news outlets but I have been finding such joy and laughter from the meme creators on IG and the comedic geniuses on Twitter. In Taiwanese when something’s really funny, people will say a phrase that is imperfectly translated as laugh to death. Like you killed a person it was so funny. Now’s the time to find that content or those people who will get you to laugh to death.
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我要去挪車.
“I’m going to go re-park the cars.”
7. Go to bed with a plan for the next morning. I grew up in a suburb of Houston, Texas where one property developer built the entire neighborhood and used the same eight or nine floor plans for all the houses but changed up the brick and trim color to keep things interesting. Most homes have a long driveway that connects a garage set near the backdoor of a home to the street. By the time I was driving, we had four cars in total -- two in the garage and two on the driveway. At the end of the day when everyone was home for the night and my dad was getting ready to go to bed, he’d announce, “I’m going to go re-park the cars.” Then we’d all kind of stop what we were doing and rearrange the order of the cars to match our morning departure schedules. This meant figuring out who was leaving when in the morning and sometimes also prompted brief check-in conversations about any changes in our usual routine.
In a pandemic it can sometimes feel like there are a million different things to attend to and large conceptual concerns that demand your attention. But there’s something calming and centering about spending a few minutes each night thinking through specifically what needs to happen just tomorrow. Not the day after or next week. Get super tactical and specific about what tomorrow morning looks like. Check-in with your partner about any aberrations to your schedule (e.g. I have a super important conference call at 7am tomorrow) to minimize any unnecessary surprises. There’s something magical about setting up your morning that helps you rest just a little easier at night.
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星期三我們有禱告會.
“On Wednesdays we have prayer meeting.”
8. Make time for your spirituality. Growing up my parents both had physically demanding jobs. My mom was a seamstress for many years, providing alterations at my aunt and uncle’s dry cleaners. She later worked in an elementary school cafeteria and then eventually became a classroom aide for special needs students. My dad worked at that same dry cleaners for years until he got a job at the post office. He then became a letter carrier, delivering mail on foot. The summer months were especially grueling, carrying a heavy sack of mail in 100 degree, humid weather, and walking until sweat soaked his shirts and blisters formed on his feet. They had every excuse to skip weeknight events. But unless they were sick in bed, I can’t remember a time when they missed their weekly prayer meeting with their friends from church.
Pandemics have an unsettling way of forcing us to confront our mortality and can trigger a bunch of unresolved shit that has been bubbling underneath the surface. We’ve lost some of our usual coping mechanisms and it can be super hard to quiet the anxieties, fears, and other demons that we usually try to keep under control. This isn’t a lecture about a particular faith or belief system. It’s just a reminder to prioritize your existential questions, your interior life, and your connection to things much bigger than yourself -- whether that’s a community, a yoga practice, a faith group, a tradition, or something else.
I have a fledgling meditation practice that I’ve been trying to strengthen since last year. When I say fledgling I mean that sometimes I bail before the ten minutes is up and check my phone. Even though I’m not very good at it yet, I can really tell the difference on the days that I make time for it. Our church started hosting its weekly Sunday service online and that’s challenging for me because a church service feels like it’s designed to be so much about the physical rhythm of going to a place, seeing faces of people I love, hearing their voices co-mingling with mine in song and in prayer, and tasting the bread and wine in my mouth. The online service was short, and just for viewing through a zoom conference call, but there was still something meaningful about setting aside that time Sunday morning, asking our wiggly kids to be present, and saying the liturgy out loud knowing that in homes all across the country, other people are doing the same.
If things are really going to get as bad as some are predicting, we’ll need the spiritual strength to make it to the other side. Those habits are hard to form overnight. My parents taught me that you really have to make the time for your spirituality non-negotiable, so that you won’t abandon it when it’s inconvenient or when you are too tired.
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沒辦法.
“What choice do we have?”
9. Rise to the occasion. Whenever my parents are telling old war stories about things they had to do to get to where they are today, inevitably one of us will say, “Man that’s crazy, how did you manage to do it?” And instead of pointing to some super personality trait of theirs or some complex self-help principle, they always say, “We had no choice.” It’s not said in a defeated way, but in a posture of accepting that life can be cruel, unfair, and capricious. And that it’s not helpful to dwell too long on the why’s and how’s. My parents taught me that you can’t stay in despair mode. You eventually have to push yourself into problem solving mode and you do whatever it takes to move forward.
This coronavirus is so unlike anything we’ve ever experienced in our lifetime. It is so unprecedented for me that my brain is having a hard time processing the reality of what’s happening right now and the rest of my lived experience. I spent the first few days of this week just being overwhelmed, anxious, angry, and irritable. At this point though, I’m in go mode. I’m doing what needs to be done for our family and taking care of business. What choice do we have? I can hear my parents saying it. One day, if we’re lucky, we’ll say it to our kids too.
#coronavirus#immigrants#immigrant parents#survival tips#advice#covid-19#pandemic#childhood#lifelessons
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Warmth
Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield)
Book: Open Heart (a little over 1 year after the end of Book 1)
Word Count: ~1300
Rating: G
Summary: Bryce finds himself in an unexpected location for his vacation.
Author’s Note: Written for Days 12 and 14 of the Autumn writing prompt list (prompts - Bonfire and Toasted Marshmallows) as requested by @universallypizzataco. I hope you don’t mind that I combined these prompts into one fic, but they just went so well together!
Bryce pulled the blanket further up over his lap and settled back in the lawn chair as he sank further into his Patagonia. His front might have been warm enough from the heat pouring off the flames, but his back was cold. The smoke from the bonfire drifted over toward him as the wind shifted, not only chilling him more, but also causing him to start coughing.
This wasn’t exactly how Bryce had pictured spending his vacation. His other vacations in residency had been a bit more adventurous. Hiking in Peru. Backpacking in Iceland. Surfing in Bali. When he learned that he and Cassie had been lucky enough to actually have a week of vacation that lined up, he’d figured they could go to a resort in the Caribbean. Something warm, tropical, and relaxing, a perfect escape from the cold wind and rain of Boston Octobers.
But instead, they were at a cabin in Michigan’s upper peninsula. Instead of a luxury king sized bed, they were sleeping in twin beds they’d shoved together. And instead of cocktails on the beach or by the pool, they were drinking beer around a bonfire, the temperature 45 degrees, not 82. But when Cassie had suggested they head to her family’s cabin to join her parents and her brother in closing it down for the season, he hadn’t been able to say no. She’d looked so excited, her eyes sparkling and her speech just slightly pressured, telling him she hadn’t made it up there for this annual tradition since the second year of med school. Who was he to deny her that chance?
To be fair, it hadn’t all been huddling in the cold and lounging around a bare bones cabin. They’d spent a couple days in Ann Arbor for her fellowship interview at the start of their vacation, and their trip north had involved a night in a quaint little B&B as they ate fudge, rented bikes, and golfed at a much nicer course than they could afford in the warmer months on Mackinac Island. But for the past two days, they’d been up in the middle of nowhere, and starting Friday night, they’d been joined by her parents and her brother. Which is how Bryce found himself sitting around a bonfire with Mrs. Vanderfield and Nick on the last Saturday of their vacation, waiting for Cassie and her father to join them with the s’mores supplies.
It was a bit strange to find himself willingly attending a family vacation. Of course, this wasn’t his family. And her family, though they were far from perfect, at least seemed to be open and caring with one another. Even now, as Bryce listened to Mrs. Vanderfield needle Nick about the length of his hair and how it wasn’t helping his job search, it felt more affectionate and warm than even the nicest compliments his parents tended to pay him.
Soon, Cassie plopped down in the lawn chair next to his, grabbing a marshmallow from the bag and shoving it on her roasting stick before passing the bag to him. Bryce grabbed his stick, sitting next to him since he finished roasting his hot dog for dinner, and placed his marshmallow above the center of the bonfire, causing Cassie to roll her eyes and laugh.
“How many times do I have to tell you that’s a recipe for a burnt marshmallow?”
Bryce winked and shrugged, “Only like half the time. And what can I say, I like to live on the edge.”
“Yeah, real big risk taker here. You’re just impatient.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk. How many miles over the speed limit were you going on the way up here when you got pulled over?”
Cassie shot him a dirty look as her mother interjected, “Cassie, you got another speeding ticket? And in a rental car? I’m so sick of telling you that getting somewhere five minutes faster is not worth risking your life.”
“Mom, it was nothing. They let me off with just a warning.”
“Only because you played the doctor card,” Bryce chimed in, taking great amusement as Cassie glared at him while her father just shook his head as her mother pinched the bridge of her nose and Nick chuckled. “What medical emergency were you rushing to again?”
“None at that time, but if you keep this up, you will need a doctor before the night’s over.”
“Promises, promises,” Bryce said with a grin, but wisely decided to stop the teasing while she was only mildly annoyed. He pulled his marshmallow out from the center of the flames, perfectly golden brown. He glanced over at Cassie’s stick, held over the edge of the fire. Her marshmallow was still pale white.
Bryce grabbed the chocolate and graham crackers off the spare lawn chair, using them to slide his marshmallow off the stick and passed the s’more to her. “Here,” he said as he grabbed the stick out of her hand, “We’ll be here all night if you wait for that marshmallow to roast there, and we have to be on the road by 7am for our flight.”
“Wait, not only did Cassie get my bed for her boyfriend, but they aren’t gonna even be here for the worst parts of closing up the cabin?” Nick asked as he whipped his head around to look between his parents.
“We’re just happy Cassie could make it this year. And Bryce, of course,” Mr. Vanderfield said as he made his own s’more, leaving off the chocolate and just using graham crackers.
“Next year we should close out the cabin the first weekend of their vacation so they can actually help on Sunday. And one of you two can take the couch,” Nick said with a shake of his head, pointing between Bryce and Cassie.
“I doubt they’ll be able to make it next year, Nick. Bryce, your residency is four more years, is that right?” asked Mrs. Vanderfield.
Bryce nodded and opened his mouth to clarify, but saw his marshmallow catch fire. Yanking the stick back toward him, he quickly blew it out, but still found himself with a blackened marshmallow. Cassie moved to get him a new one, but he shook his head and made his s’more anyway. A little charring wasn’t a problem.
“The next two years are dedicated research time for me, so we should have some flexibility in scheduling our vacations,” Bryce said before taking a bite.
“Oh, don’t feel obligated, dear. We completely understand if you two want to take a trip to Hawaii to see your family. That has to be more exciting than the UP,” said Mrs. Vanderfield.
“And warmer,” added Mr. Vanderfield.
Bryce just shook his head and continued eating his s’more. No need to get into that mess tonight. So he let the conversation drift to other topics, from Thanksgiving plans with Mrs. Vanderfield’s sister to Mr. Vanderfield’s new boss, from memories of the time Cassie broke her arm climbing the giant oak tree out front to Mrs. Vanderfield attempting to determine if Nick was currently dating anyone. It was so different than what Bryce was used to when his family got together, watching a family that clearly actually liked spending time with one another.
As they left the bonfire and went to get ready for bed in the tiny bathroom, Cassie slipped her hand into his and said, “Thanks for coming up here with me. I know this isn’t your usual vacation.”
Bryce shrugged, “Maybe, but I am always up to try something new.”
“Still, I know you aren’t a big fan of the cold.”
“Warmth isn’t always found in a forecast, Cassie.”
She smiled at him gently, then handed him his toothbrush and toothpaste from the toiletry bag they had sitting on the top of the toilet tank. While she was right that he never would have chosen a vacation like this on his own, he wouldn’t change sharing these moments with her for anything.
@mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenchoices @octobereighth @feartheendlesssummer @tallulahshh @fortunatelywaywardsandwich @dreaming-of-movies @choicesarehard @universallypizzataco @omgjasminesimone @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl
#bryce lahela#bryce x mc#open heart#open heart fanfiction#oh fanfic#choices open heart#choices fanfiction#choices#playchoices#choices stories you play#prompt request
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The Dream Run: Greg Holzman’s Island Life
Part 2.
If you were born before the last twenty years of the 20th century you’re able to grasp how much new technology and cheap air travel have changed the world and the way we live in it: profound changes that have touched every aspect of our lives. Surfing has always required commitment to the pursuit of good waves, but the nature and depth of that commitment has morphed and grown. Greg joked with us about one of the photos he sent us - him perfectly framed in the spiralling mouth of a smooth and luminous barrel - saying it was “nothing money can’t buy”. He’s right of course, but money’s only part of it – to experience the kind of nirvana we glimpse in shots like that requires planning, preparation of equipment, logistics, lots of water-time and perhaps more than anything, fitness. Add to this the fact that as a self-employed fisherman, when Greg’s not working, he’s not earning. Sponsors? Well, he gets a few boards from Buddy McCray. His logistical team is a loose network of local contacts he’s developed to facilitate the various resources and services inevitably required at short notice in out of the way places. Greg’s strike missions are conceived, organised, funded and executed autonomously: it’s all his own experience, knowledge, time and money. There are few among us able to shut up shop and disappear, possibly for months at a time, living self-sufficiently on the road, chasing the chance of finding a particular spot firing for a limited time. You may plan for a road trip or a boat trip, but Greg’s is commitment on a whole other level. Access to technology is one thing, knowing how to put it to best use is a skill acquired over time. Greg’s background in fishing has been a huge help in interpreting long-range weather forecasts, weather maps, charts of out of the way places: all key factors in his ability to score quality waves. Help and advice from fellow travellers, including a smattering of kneeboard surfers spread around the globe. Behind all this though, remain two things. One is what started it all going more than half a lifetime ago in San Diego: an irrepressible drive to ride big, challenging, high quality waves. The other is what drove Greg to leave Oahu for the outer islands in the late 70’s: the drive to explore the outermost limits of his ability on his own, away from the crowd. While there are plenty of pro and semi-pro freesurfing footboarders criss-crossing the globe at any given time, each with a Youtube channel and an Instagram account, it’s kind of nice to know that kneeboard surfing has Greg Holzman out there pushing the limits of what’s been done and pushing the rest of us to step up our game and look beyond our comfort zone.
Greg views his big wave pursuits as “strike missions”. Track a swell, find a spot, check wind and tide permutations, airlines, local travel, accommodation, be ready to go at the drop of a hat, and be prepared to surf at 100% when you get there. He’s been doing this for about 40 years, perhaps with increasing sophistication and expertise, but that’s the only change. We received an email just after Christmas.
“So for fear of more words I’ll give you the story of my first solo big wave venture. It was at Pipeline. 1978. It was a giant West swell. Surf reports weren’t accurate back then but looking out I could see it was nice East winds in Kailua and I knew a big West swell was pumping. I was all about Pipeline at the end of my Oahu period so I felt very comfortable out there.
I surfed with the heavies of the day, so I was pushing my limits. Driving up Kam Highway, the hour it took really got the heart pumping, especially when I hit Indicators reef and saw how big it was. More often than not, the swell was huge instead of too small, but in the 70’s no-one knew how big till you got there. When I got to Ehukai Beach Park I saw no-one out, perfect offshores and third reef sets at 20ft Hawaiian. Some amazing waves but I wasn’t sure I was ready for that!
Jack Lindholm was headed out on his bodyboard. I watched him catch a few incredible rides that got me stoked. The Second reef was capping hard and seemed like easy take-offs, but that was Jack on a bodyboard and he could take off later than anyone at the time.
I remember he didn’t make it out of a tube on one and came up the beach with his board almost torn in half. I didn’t know him but commented on his board. He said he was going to change boards and go back out so I told him I would get ready and meet him out there. As I walked down to the beach I saw Sam Hawk paddle out, headed to the peaks at outside Log Cabins. I never saw Sammy again. Obviously, he lived, but that was all I saw of him as it was soon after this that I moved to Kauai.
Anyway, I paddled out. It wasn’t that hard; in fact it was really easy with the channel and a big West swell. Everyone was at Waimea Bay - for good reason. When I got out, I remember seeing the sets on the outer reefs break a minute or two before they hit us. What I remember most was how hard it was to catch those monsters on my 5’2” twin fin fish. The waves had a deep-water slope to them, and you had to take off as the wave was breaking. Jack had it down and before too long he was gone. I never saw Jack again either. So here I am and all I’m seeing is giant lines - just like the movies - and I’m getting further and further from shore. I’m thinking that I may need to get rescued and wondering if anyone’s watching in the lifeguard tower. I thought how embarrassing that would be and decided I needed to move inside and catch one underneath or I was not going to get in. Paddling in was a death sentence and it was obviously on the rise, so in between sets I paddled inside. When a set approached EVERYTHING in me said “move outside NOW”, but I waited. I thought if I didn’t catch that first one I was getting to that beach dead or alive. Luckily, I made the right call and that first wave was deep and inside and an easy take-off. In fact, I commented to myself on how easy it was, really. Once it hit that first reef I just sat there in this big easy barrel - no fear anymore - and the wave was just as perfect and easy a wave as I could get. It spit and I glided out onto the shoulder. I looked out thinking “I can do that again” when … the whole channel was closing out. I immediately turned for shore, just in time to see it turn to close-out sets. When I got there I heard the hoots and claps of tourists cheering. I had survived my first solo big wave event. It scared me but I never felt more alive and I never forgot it. Just like many firsts, they are worth remembering.”
So, fast forward to 2016, with Greg’s island life undergoing change, and another dream run about to start. While in Kandui in May that year, Greg picked up a Facebook friend request from Paul Macklin, an Aussie traveller who for years had sent him photos of his surf travels. Paul was then living in Bali. Greg decided he needed to return to G-land, so in July he left for Bobby’s Camp.
Paul met me in the camp. Bobby Radiasa remembered me - it was like I had never left. All the same guys. Many had gone back every year I was gone. Having that family vibe in camp is a very addictive feeling and Facebook has kept us all back in contact. So, 2018 became the thirty-year reunion for me and G-land. I had three trips in 2018 looking for the gold standard G-land of June - July 2016 that was still the three swells of recent memory. I got amazing waves, but that massive perfect Speed Reef (which rarely happens) eluded me. After seeing the photos of those days I swore I was investing in this as a goal: to get it at its best. I didn’t care how many trips it would take.
After G-land in July 2017, I was off to South Africa: from Bali to J-bay. I worried about the cold, coming straight from the tropics, and I did freeze, but I learned a few tricks there as well on staying warm - including a 1mm wetsuit top under my clothes - that let no cold air in on those freezing surf checks! That’s where I met Gigs and Stevo. I stayed with Mike Ruthnum, who I’m indebted to for introducing me to great people, fellow KB riders, and secret surf spots that I will always remember. J-bay was an eye-opener. Much had changed there. Crowds were always a factor, but the town had a great vibe. The South Africans have all the forecasting at their fingertips now, so they come from around the country for the bigger swells, which I found different than the 80’s. But with that came KB riders. I found a very cool group of fellow riders who were happy, very much a club feeling, and with a wide range of boards ... it was an impressive group. I came home knowing that I would return next season. A month is not enough time in Africa. But as soon as I got home, I saw $500 tickets return to Bali. I knew Gigs was going and Simon Farrer - who I hadn’t seen since he was 18 on my island with Buddy - was meeting Gigs at G-land. Simon was already a phenomenon at 18. Seeing his movies made me want to spend time with these two world champs. So back I went for more.
That took me right into the 2018-19 season with a passion for strike missions. I managed to strike a few Pacific spots early 2019 during Hawaii’s stormy moments. Each time selling more plants and looking: as soon as it was a good moment and I had cash I was going - sometimes with less than 8 hours to pack and be at the airport. I was on call for G-land when I saw a series of swells and good winds lining up. I told myself I wasn’t going to plan in advance for Indo anymore. My goal was one which wouldn’t end till I caught that 2016 Gold standard swell. Lucky for me it came on a day that looked like it wasn’t going to happen. The surf was huge and the direction was good with a high tide, but the wind was light onshore. I was pretty bummed when I saw the rain at 9 am, (not usually a good sign) but it passed quickly. All the guys went in. I knew the winds were changing with that sound the bamboo makes and quickly suited up. I got down to the beach and Donny the photographer said to hop on his bike. Blacky and he were headed out on the boat to take photos. I knew it was good and a heavy paddle out, so off we went. As soon as we neared it, we saw this was no normal day. When you see the photographer and boat driver pounding the boat and cheering like they were you know it’s not a normal day. Two guys were out, but they wanted nothing to do with those sets. My heart was pounding hard. I knew this was going to be a test - of all I had learned to stay safe, and the test of my equipment I so badly wanted.
What made it even better was my photographer was right on it with me to document. I paddled out to an empty lineup and two guys who just paddled over the sets. It was destiny, fate, or just plain perseverance.
I learned a lot: about my boards, my goals and how hard it is to drive through those shock waves deep in barrels when it’s like that. I could see that what I needed was a board with the fins further back for stability as one bottom turn is all you get and then you’re behind and flying. Some I made, some I should have made, and others were just plain heavy. The crowd eventually showed up and the tide went out. One of the biggest problems with this kind of swell is it’s only good at high tide for a maximum of 4 hours. Usually only about 2 to 3 hours at its best. That’s a lot of investment for such a short window. For me it was worth it. It taught me I could still do it and what my boards needed next mission to maximize my tube time.
It’s obvious that there’s a lot more to surf exploration at this level than meets the eye. A lifetime of preparation and expense may seem a high price to pay for memories - a few photos and stories representing the sole concrete evidence of mere minutes spent riding perfect surf - but to Greg, as for anyone else doing what he does, it’s not about money.
I’ve done 12 trips in three years and surfed Hawaii winters every swell I can in between. I’ve gone to 5 destinations and gone back to each - if I can - till I am satisfied I’ve caught it at its best. I feel I have only really achieved that this year (2019) at G land, which is lucky because next year isn’t going to be the year - with the WSL going off there in the middle of the season.
In Hawaii we take surfing very seriously. It has changed from when I started, Then, it was much more about the soul surfer and not publicizing where you went and not photographing your sessions. It wasn’t for money either. Now, everyone thinks they can get a free something if they’re good. It’s competitive and I try to remain in a collaborative mind-space. I have found it’s probably a help that I am a KB rider because we’re always trying to prove we belong in the lineup. At this point I rarely feel I can’t deal with things in a lineup, but often I know the fight isn’t worth the effort. I’ll voluntarily move out of the space as I don’t like catching scraps. If I have no chance for the sets, I’ll remove myself from the situation to save myself from certain mental crisis. Or a yelling match. This happened a few times at Jeffreys this year and in September 2018 at G-land with 80 guys in the water. Everyone - even your friends - are on a different level and chances are you’re not going to like what you see, so I’m out at that point.
Knowing how much effort went into getting himself into the line-up for those sessions, that’s a pretty big statement, one that we might all be wise to keep in mind every time we paddle out.
Words - Rob Harwood - Legless.tv
Photos: Donny Lopez, John Barber & Courtesy of Greg Holzman
#greg holzman#Rob Harwood#legless.tv#kneeboard surfing#kneeboard Hawaii#hawaii#steen#kneelo#gland#donny lopez#john barber#blast kneeboards
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Crate Digger’s Corner: [Concert Review] Medeski, Clouser & Schutte- Live At The Icehouse
Crate Digger’s Corner…by DJ Musically Rich
Minneapolis, MN 5/27/19… While a cool spring evening falls over the Twin Cities, the Icehouse in Minneapolis is just beginning to heat up shortly after 9 p.m. tonight. The reason for that hot spot is the energized playing of jazz trio Medeski, Clouser & Schutte. Largely playing material that has not been performed before; they held the attention of the full Icehouse crowd for the entire, nearly 2 hour, show.
The show opened with ‘Miss Tulsa’ a funky tune that had the crowd grooving along. It allowed all three players to quickly show their ability to dig into a song right away. That was followed by a bit more spacious and abstract tune called ‘Bored Folks’, which led me straight into a zone that did not let up until the music did at 11 p.m. Within that time frame, the music continued to shift from groove based into more atmospheric sections or free playing as songs changed, but even more so within the songs themselves. Despite that constant sway of musical information coming at the crowd the transitions were always smooth enough that it did not break the energy and flow of the musicians, but you could just watch them dig in and listen closer and closer to each other as the night progressed.
Along with the instrumental cuts they were playing, which I would say was about 70% of the show, they did have a few vocal songs as well. Those were sung by guitarist, Todd Clouser, whose style on those (although not vocal quality) reminded me of Asylum/Elektra-era Tom Waits if he had been backed by a three piece band. That is they were generally very spacious and languid musical beds he was singing over, which fit the vibe just right. They also had local legend Molly Maher step out and perform on vocals and guitar on ‘On The 18’.
It would be remiss of me not to mention that after the final song of their excellent regular set, they came back on for an encore, and it was great! The song called ‘Unbreak The Morning’ was a perfect ending to a show that pushed and pulled through musical tension and spaciousness. The song is very relaxing and has a drone vibe to it. It allowed the crowd to sink into the music and provided a calming release to send the crowd home.
All three were amazing in their abilities to play, listen and musically communicate together even though they had been together for a fairly brief amount of rehearsal time (I’d imagine since they are not regularly playing together and based in different areas of the country). John Medeski’s ability to swing from B-3 to Rhodes, as well as holding down the bass lines with the pedals was in full effect. There’s a reason he is regularly listed in the Downbeat polls amongst the top organists. Todd Clouser had his guitar doing anything he wanted and right on time. Whether he’s accompanying himself as he’s singing, finding interesting single note lines to counterpoint the organ or coming up with interesting chordings to keep the interplay fresh he was holding it down all night. Greg Schutte was on the drums (full disclosure: I have known Greg for about 20 years and have probably heard him as many times as any musician I’ve seen). Schutte, who is fantastic at playing just the right things to enhance the music without being intrusive in the music, was once again on point tonight. He is also a very melodic drummer when soloing or when in musical conversation which, I always feel as if it gives a group a little extra juice that your average listener is going to notice but not necessarily hear. This is a show that if you were lucky enough to be there, you have a tale for the watercooler the next day.
I also would like to thank Greg Schutte for getting me the playlist…
Playlist: Miss Tulsa/ Bored Folks/ Blues ‘n’ Peyote/ Where’s Her Money From/ On The 18 (w/ Molly Maher)/ The Kids Are Gonna Win/ I Want To Be The One To Change The World/ No Name Daniel/ Forecast In Rome/ Fuck You Guys Encore: Unbreak The Morning
(I also wanted to point out that I did have seen Medeski, Clouser & Bates twice before at the Icehouse. One of those, I believe the 2016 show, is available for download through Ropeadope Records.)
Also, being that this is Crate Digger’s Corner, let me give you some albums to find for further listening to these artists...
John Medeski- First off, make sure you’re familiar with both Medeski, Martin & Wood as well as The Word (Medeski, Robert Randolph & The North Mississippi All-Stars). I am going to go with some albums that you may not realize he’s playing on.
Spectrum Road- self-titled/ Melvin Gibbs- Ancients Speak/ The Campbell Brothers- Can You Feel It?/ Oren Bloedow- self-titled (his follow-up album has MMW backing him)/ James Carter- Heaven On Earth/ John Scofield- A Go Go/ Ken Schaphorst Big Band- Purple/ The Mandala Octet- The Last Elephant/ Club D’Elf- Now I Understand/ G. Love & Special Sauce- Electric Mile, finally Either/Orchestra- Half-Life Of Desire (There’s a great King Crimson cover to end the album)
I’ve only heard one album from Todd Clouser, but it’s a keeper!
Todd Clouser’s A Love Electric- 20th Century Folk Selections
I have a few albums that should be checked out with Greg Schutte on the drums.
Impossible Party- self-titled/ Park Evans Quartet- Surviving Desire/ Test Site 67- 4 Tone Sunburst Hoopdy/ Test Site 67- Firin’ Up The Virgins Tour: Live From The Virgin Islands
To see photos of albums in my collection follow my IG: djmusicallyrich
#djmusicallyrich #cratediggerscorner #musicreview #musicreviews #albumreviews #recordcollection #albumcollection #vinylcollection
#djmusicallyrich#cratediggerscorner#musicreviews#livemusic#johnmedeski#toddclouser#gregschutte#jazzmusic#icehousempls
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Moonlight (Part 1)
A/N: Hey, this was requested by @osh-osht0394. Hope you like it!
Pairing: Oh Sehun x g!Reader
Summary/Prompt: On a camping trip, you stumble across a mystery that leaves you terrified for your life.
Genre: Pretty much everything, Wolf!AU
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Some violence?
Find links to the other parts in my masterlist! Link in bio.
-
“Ugh, what do you mean, we’re going camping?” I asked my best friend exasperatedly. “I—oh, come on, why do I have to go with you guys? Can’t I stay here? I’m not that good with the outdoors.”
“Neither am I,” Kyungsoo butted in, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Can I stay with her? We could go next week.”
“No,” she said firmly, “both of you are going and there’s no questions about it.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she continued. “You’re not on your period or anything, are you?” My mouth closed as I shook my head, flustered. “And you,” she turned to Kyungsoo, “I assume you’re not either?”
He turned red. She turned away in satisfaction and didn’t catch what he said, but I did. “Something like that.” I glanced up at him in surprise and confusion. He caught my look and forced a smile.
“You’re okay, right?” I asked hesitantly. “I mean, if you’re sick or something, I could probably convince her to let you go.”
He waved the offer away. “Nah, it’s okay. You could use the company.”
I smiled gratefully and squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”
-
“This can’t end well,” I remarked, glancing out of the car window up at the darkening sky, where clouds had begun to gather. Baekhyun brought the car to a stop at the edge of the woods at the city border.
“Shut up, Y/N, don’t jinx the entire trip,” my best friend snapped, though she looked anxious as well. “It’ll go away. The weather forecast was clear.”
“No, maybe Y/N is right.” Kyungsoo opened the car door and stared into the woods nervously. “We should go back.”
“Guys, can you stop?” Baekhyun raised his hands to pacify us. “Nothing’s going to happen. See? The sun is breaking through already.” We raised our eyes to the sky, where, true enough, light had broken through the thick cloud cover.
“Not for long,” Kyungsoo muttered, barely audible. I looked at him, but he had already walked around to the trunk of the car to pull out our tents.
We bantered around good-naturedly as we (tried to) construct our respective tents. Baekhyun somehow managed to get Kyungsoo tangled in theirs and we had to come to his rescue. Needless to say, he was not happy. I knew something might blow up if they stayed around each other any longer, so I linked my arm around Kyungsoo’s and said, “We’ll go find some firewood.”
“Thank you, go do something useful,” Baekhyun said cheekily and I had to physically hold Kyungsoo back from pouncing on him.
-
Two minutes later, we were quite deep in the forest, arms full of drywood and hopelessly lost. I thought I could see the brightly coloured tents in the distance and I told Kyungsoo so. I couldn’t help but think that he was acting strangely today. He kept glancing around him and then up at the sky every few minutes.
“Kyungsoo, are you okay?” I asked.
“Please don’t ask any questions right now, Y/N,” he cut across my words. He carefully balanced the few pieces of wood he carried on the pile already in my arms and pushed me gently in the direction that I had mentioned. “Go back to them. I….I’ll be with you soon. Just go.”
Without a look back at me, he disappeared into the growing darkness. Now I was alone, holding a pile of twigs and utterly terrified. How could he just leave me like this? I squinted at the gap I’d seen the tents. I could barely see anything now. Only the sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves filled my ears. I swallowed.
A sudden crash of thunder made me jump and shriek, half the wood falling to the ground. Not even five second later, rain came pouring down. Soon I was soaked.
“Well, this isn’t any good now,” I whispered, dropping the rest. “Where is Kyungsoo?” Where were the other two? Shouldn’t they be concerned at all? Why can’t I hear them calling out for us? Maybe I could call them—I patted my pockets—wait, where’s my phone?! Then I remembered; I’d left my phone in the cup holder of my car. “Dammit!”
I looked around, heart pounding. I couldn’t see anything. Night had really fallen.
I took a step forward, not knowing which direction I was going. I’m going to die I’m going to die oh no no no I’m going to die.
A howl. My blood froze. A wolf? I heard it again, this time much louder. I stopped moving, breathing heavily, at the verge of tears. And then I heard a rustle, directly in front of me. My heart stopped for a split second.
From the bushes and trees, a wolf prowled. I couldn’t see it well enough, but I knew.
I dared not move. But a nagging voice in the back of my head told me that it was too late.
Ten feet away from me, it stopped as if something was pulling it back. It writhed and from what I could make out in the dim moonlight, it was struggling against….itself?
What happened next is something I could never describe, because I didn’t know what happened myself. One second it was a thrashing wolf, the next second there lay in a heap a young man in tattered trousers, upper body completely exposed. I let out a yell in shock.
He was heaving and gasping for breath. His head slowly lifted up and he stared right at me. The air in my lungs evaporated.
The moon broke through the clouds and cast light through the canopy. He raised his eyes to the sky and I did the same.
The full moon smiled down at me. And then I understood.
A low growl reverberated through the woods. I stepped back a pace, my focus back on him. He was struggling to rise, and now that I could see, I noticed huge gashes across his torso and his face. He managed to stand, still staring at me as if I was the only thing he could see.
“No! Y/N, get away!” Kyungsoo’s shout, abnormally loud in the silence broke through the trance that I had been enslaved in. He stumbled out from between the trees, standing protectively in front of me, one arm in front of himself to ward off the young man, who looked between the two of us, eyes narrowed.
The wolf—werewolf?—snarled.
“You,” he rasped. “Get away from her.”
Kyungsoo didn’t bother to reply. “Y/N, just run—“
The stranger transformed, in the blink of an eye, into a wolf, sleek black fur hugging its body. It growled once more ferociously and backed up, ready to pounce. And then it did.
I screamed, throwing my arms around my head.
Another growl. Roaring. I opened my eyes a fraction, stupefied.
Two wolves? But—
The smaller brown wolf slashed its claws around the black one’s snout. It howled in pain and rolled away. In that fraction of a second, the smaller wolf transformed. I was dazed, in a stupor, as Kyungsoo seized my hand. And then suddenly we were in front of the car at the edge of the woods.
“Get in the car!” Kyungsoo yelled to the two who were frantically arguing with each other and calling out our names. I was still weak, still in shock, unable to speak. I hadn’t even noticed that the rain had ceased. “We have to go!”
They were startled, but rushed to the car, not even stopping to shove the tents back in the trunk. Kyungsoo helped me into the backseat and got in with me.
“What’s going on?!” Baekhyun asked, tremors in his voice.
“I think something’s chasing us,” Kyungsoo panted. That was more than enough momentum for Baekhyun to speed the car out of the area.
-
The next thing I knew, Kyungsoo was supporting me into my apartment and depositing me on the sofa.
“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry that I left you,” he began, but I barely heard him. “I had business to take care of, and I thought you would get back to them. I never thought—“
“What are you?” I hissed in a deadly whisper.
He smiled sadly at me. “Don’t you know?”
My mind went blank. How…?
“I don’t know how you managed to get him to transform into his human form, but let me tell you, you’re lucky to be alive.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t understand….why did he attack me, though?” He seemed to be speaking to himself. “Damn this full moon, just….why?”
“Kyungsoo, I don’t—“
“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said soothingly. “You’re not ever going to go there again. You’re alright. Just….let me—“
He pressed his thumb and index finger to my temples and then all was black.
-
A/N:
ack, im sorry i stopped it here but i wanted to post something today but i dont have time to finish it nljkdnmalksdngkjsdkngs
im hoping part 2 will be out soon?
#exo#smtown#SM#sm entertainment#do kyungsoo#kyungsoo#DO#oh sehun#sehun#sehunnie#exo sehun#angst#fluff#mystery#wolf!au#wolf!sehun#wolf!kyungsoo#confusion#lost in the woods#its raining too#exo scenarios#kpop scenarios#scenarios#imagines#exo imagines#love#soulmates#mating
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